


The Brightest Black

by Enigmaticrose4



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Bonding, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hogwarts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Original Character Death(s), Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Revenge, Rivalry, Romance, Scars, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 72
Words: 261,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6237706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmaticrose4/pseuds/Enigmaticrose4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On that fateful Halloween night Bellatrix Lestrange decided to sate her bloodlust on an innocent muggleborn family.  Life is never again the same for the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. - Dramione AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Halloween Night

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is extremely violent. Possible triggers. You have been warned. 
> 
> Points of change – 1) Sirius did not go to check on Pettigrew and find him gone, he got assigned on patrol instead. 2) Bellatrix got a hankering for some bloodshed and randomly picked the Grangers from a list of muggleborns.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, he arrives too late to stop Hermione from being orphaned. A dying wish has him adopting Hermione and raising her as his daughter.

**BOOK 1: CHILDHOOD**

 

The moon hung low over her head as Bellatrix Lestrange née Black moved down an ordinary looking muggle street. She grinned as anticipation filled her. She loved the minutes leading up to an attack. The world was so calm, and only she knew just how it was going to be disrupted.

How would she do it this time? The Cruciatus? Another form of torture perhaps? What about a dull knife and some well used ropes? Or should she just keep it quick and simple with the killing curse?

She let out a cruel chuckle at that idea. Keep it simple? Why should she, when she was just going to kill some dirty muggles and a mudblood? They didn't deserve simple. And it wasn't like they could do anything to stop her. Besides, her lord was busy this evening. He wouldn't need her before dawn.

A terrible grin twisted Bellatrix's features and turned her normally gorgeous face into something that was much more suited to what lay under it.

Oh, yes, torture it would be.

XXX

Bellatrix threw her head back and laughed when the muggle woman screamed in pain as blood blossomed from the new cut. It was almost orgasmic, what the sound of screams did to her. The man hadn't screamed enough. He'd given her some pleasure when he'd bitten his own tongue off, but not nearly enough. No, he'd only screamed once she'd begun on the woman. And once he could scream no more she'd turned back to him, made his wife watch as she cut him apart, one inch at a time.

Now, now it was time for the grand finale.

She levitated the now moaning woman and left the bedroom, leaving the man where he lay, turning the once white carpet a gorgeous crimson. She almost wished she had a camera, to capture the slow spread of blood. She'd have to remember for the future how much fun carpet was.

She entered the nursery down the hallway, casually sticking the woman to the wall. Then she threw up another silencing spell. No need to alert the authorities yet, she didn't want to rush.

Oh, no, she wanted the muggle woman to watch as the mudblood brat died slowly and painfully.

"HERMIONE! RUN!" The woman screamed as it registered on her pain-filled mind what was about to happen.

Bellatrix cackled, "You think your brat can run? From me?! Stupid bitch."

The mudblood couldn't run, but it did wake up. Bellatrix laughed as the brat shook its head and stood up in its crib, looking in confusion at the two women in the nursery.

"Ma-ma?"

Bellatrix laughed and then turned to cast another cruciatus curse on the woman. It would be so much better if the brat knew what was coming.

The woman screamed, her whole body locking up as she jerked in pain. The brat's jaw dropped and then it cried out, "NO!"

Bellatrix ignored it for a moment, letting the torture continue until the woman was barely conscious.

Then she turned her wand on the brat.

The young screams were like music to her ears. They were so well in tune with the mother's. Bellatrix stopped herself before she let it go on too long. She wanted the brat conscious when she started the cutting.

She pulled out her personal knife and slipped her wand in the front of her robes. The mother continued to scream as Bellatrix held the knife aloft and approached the crib. She grabbed the brat by its hair and yanked it out of the crib, watching its face twist with pain. She threw it on the floor, watching as it rolled and bounced until it was at its mother's feet.

Bellatrix threw back her head and cackled, then hurled herself on the baby and began her carving work. When she was finished everyone would know why the brat had died. After all, thou shalt not suffer a mudblood to live.

She had finished the arms and legs and was about to begin on the face when her Mark began to burn. Bellatrix hissed in pain and jerked up. She yanked her sleeve up and stared in shock as her Mark began to flicker and waver before slowly beginning to fade.

No…

Her lord…

Jerking away from the brat she dropped the knife and yanked out her wand. It was time to go. Her lord needed her. Something was wrong.

She pointed her wand at the ceiling and cast the Dark Mark. Then she looked at the barely conscious woman and smiled.

"Time to die."

She raised her wand.

"NO!"

Bellatrix twisted one thin eyebrow up as she glanced down at the brat. The mudblood was barely conscious, bleeding from cuts up and down its limbs, but there was something in its eyes…

She sneered, "No? You stupid little mudblood. No one tells Bellatrix no. Besides, you're next."

She raised her wand again, ignoring the brat.

Then pain struck her thigh, causing her to drop her wand and howl in pain. She glanced down and saw her knife clutched in the two-year olds small hands, the point digging into her thigh, just above the knee.

"NO!" the brat screamed again. A fire was burning bright in its brown eyes.

Bellatrix reached down and grabbed the brat's wrists in one hand and yanked the knife out of her thigh with the other.

"Alright then," she hissed, "you can be first."

She raised the knife up, the muggle woman screamed, "Hermione!" and then plunged it down, only to be stopped. It was as if an invisible hand had grabbed her wrist, stopping it from descending. She screamed once again in frustration and yanked her hand up, trying to jab it down again. Once again she was stopped. She saw red and yanked her hand up higher. Again and again she swung, screaming the entire time.

How DARE that mudblood stop her!

HOW DARE IT!

XXX

Sirius Black yawned and turned his motorcycle, letting it drift through a cloud. He hated these late night patrols, they so rarely led to results. Only good thing about tonight was that he would finish up over Godric's Hollow. He'd be able to stop in and have breakfast with James and Lily. Maybe even catch a nap in front of the fire with little Harry.

That thought made him smile, curling up in dog form with Harry was a great way to sleep. He glanced down at this watch as he emerged from the cloud. Just an hour until sunrise, he'd be in Godric's Hollow in thirty minutes if-

He glanced up and cursed, all thoughts of James and his family flying from his mind.

The Dark Mark had appeared directly in front of him, over a rather ordinary looking muggle home.

He aimed his bike at the ground and whipped out his wand to send a quick patronus back to headquarters. Looked like his nap would have to wait, hopefully he wasn't too late.

His bike had just hit the ground when he was off of it and running into the house. He didn't hear a thing, but that meant nothing. There could be silencing charm up.

He raised his wand and began to slowly move through the house. When he reached the master bedroom he had to stop himself from being sick. The man on the carpeted floor was in pieces, a look of agony on his face, just barely visible under all the bloody cuts.

Sirius knew who had done this. Only one death eater took this much pleasure and time when killing muggles. He ducked back out of the doorway and continued down the hallway. He reached a half open door and as soon as he reached out to push it open he heard the screams.

Screams of rage were echoed by screams of pure terror, and, underneath all of the screaming he thought he heard a young voice chanting, "No," over and over again.

There was a child in there.

Every nerve in his body screamed at him to go rushing in, but he couldn't do that. His cousin was in there, and she was almost as dangerous as Voldemort himself.

Cautiously, he pushed the door open a little farther, just enough for him to see the scene before him.

An unknown woman, likely the wife of the man he'd found, was stuck to the wall. She was covered in blood and she was screaming, a mindless terror in her eyes as they remained fixed at the floor below her.

On the floor…

A child, maybe a year older than little Harry, lay bleeding from numerous small cuts on their limbs, his cousin poised over the child, a silver knife glinting in her hand. As he watched she raised it and drove it down, only to be stopped by an invisible force. She let out a howl of frustration and raised her arm again. The look on the small child's face was one of defiance and pure hatred, but Sirius could see the weariness there, under it all. The child wouldn't hold out much longer. He glanced around, and saw his cousin's wand lying on the ground next to her.

Sirius turned off his brain, he had to act, fast.

A child's life depended on it.

"Accio Bellatrix's Wand!" Sirius shouted, shoving the door open and catching the wand in his left hand as it flew towards him.

Bellatrix whipped around, her cold eyes locking on his face. Sirius couldn't help himself, he shivered with a touch of fear. There wasn't an ounce of sanity left in her eyes. And what was left behind…

"YOU!" She screeched, leaping off the floor and diving at him, knife raised.

Sirius raised his wand, but he was too slow, still in shock over what his cousin had turned into. And then she was on him, the knife descending for his face. He dropped the two wands he was holding and just barely managed to catch her wrist. Stopping the knife a mere inch from his eye.

"Just die!" she said, twisting, trying to free her arm from his grasp. Her other hand came around, her fingers scrambling at his, her long nails scratching his skin, making blood well up, coating his hands in red.

Sirius bucked his hips and tried to get her off him, but all he succeeded in doing was rolling them across the floor. It was pure luck that had her knee impacting his hip and not somewhere more delicate as they fought for control over the knife. Sirius' breathing was coming fast, his only thoughts for the moment were on survival. He'd even forgotten about the small child and the woman pinned to the wall.

Luckily the child hadn't forgotten them.

"NO! STOP!"

The shout, in such a young determined voice, caused Sirius and his cousin to whip their heads around. The knife was currently resting against Sirius' throat, Bellatrix had both hands on it, trying to drive the point in. It was taking all of his strength to keep the point from drawing blood.

The sight before him almost made him drop his arms.

The child, a girl if he wasn't mistaken, was holding both of the dropped wands, one in each small hand. They were aimed directly at Bellatrix. As he watched the girl raised the wands up and begin swinging them at the woman, her small mouth opened up, as if to say something.

Sirius heard Bellatrix let out a hiss and then tense up, as if to leap at the child. Sirius tried to twist, to move her away from the little girl, but he wasn't fast enough. The little girl yelled something and then Bellatrix was flying off of him. She rose up and then slammed into the wall, making the entire house shudder and pictures fall from the wall. Sirius watched in shock before he felt something being pushed into his hand. He looked over to see the girl extending his wand towards him. Something unreadable in her eyes.

Quickly he took his wand and got his cousin stunned and tied up. The little girl calmly watched him as he did this. As soon as he was certain that Bellatrix was secure he unpinned the woman from the wall. The little girl was beside her in an instant.

"Mama!"

The woman's eyelids slowly opened. He watched as her eyes took a moment to focus on the girl.

"Hermione," she said in barely a whisper.

Sirius immediately began running a diagnostic spell, but he didn't have much hope. His healing skills were minimal and he could tell she was much too injured to move. But he couldn't just leave to go get help, what if another Death Eater came?

Merlin's Balls! Where was the rest of the Order?!

"Mama!" the girl sobbed, throwing herself on her mother's chest.

The woman winced, but carefully, and with great effort, brought her unbroken arm up to stroke her daughter's hair. She continued to stroke her daughter's head as the girl sobbed, but her eyes moved away, until they focused on Sirius.

"You-you saved her."

"I'm sorry I didn't come faster."

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

"You have-have magic. Like her," her eyes flickered to the trussed up Bellatrix.

"Yes, I'm a wizard. I think your daughter is a witch. She did magic."

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she continued to stroke Hermione's hair. "We always knew she was special."

The girl, Hermione, grew quieter, her sobs coming further and further apart as they spoke. Sirius knew she must've passed out from exhaustion. She'd done a lot of magic for one so young. And she'd been tortured. He ran a quick diagnostic on the girl, but found no internal injuries. Just all the cuts on her limbs.

"I-I have a favor to ask."

Sirius raised his eyes and met the deep brown ones of the dying woman's.

"Raise my daughter. We-we have no family. She has no one. I don't know you," she closed her eyes and Sirius watched as a tear trickled out, creating a clean trail amid all the blood. "But you saved her. Is there some way to…"

Her voice drifted off, and Sirius could tell that it was taking all of her remaining strength to talk to him. He could guess what she was going to ask though.

"Is there some way for you to make me her guardian? Like a magical way? So no one can contest it?"

She nodded, just a fraction of an inch, and Sirius felt all the air rush out of his lungs. If he did this…

He looked over at his unconscious cousin, and then down at the exhausted little girl, lying on her dying mother's chest. He had to fight the urge to laugh hysterically. He thought the night would end with him curled up with Harry in front of the fire. Instead he was going to get himself a daughter. Make a muggleborn his daughter, and in such a way that no one could deny she was his. And he'd use a Black family ritual to do it.

His parents would be furious.

But that wasn't important.

Gently, he reached over and ran a finger over the small girl's face. Emotion swelled up inside of him and he felt a tear trickle down his own cheek.

"Yes, there's a way. And I'd be honored to raise and protect your daughter. She'll know nothing but love in my home and among my friends."

She smiled faintly, "Good."

He nodded, "Now, let me show you what we need to do."

XXX

Hermione's birth mother, Gertrude Granger, died a few minutes after the ritual was completed. Sirius held his new daughter in his arms as she cried the few tears she had left. He was still sitting there, rocking her gently, when Moody and the Prewett brothers arrived.

"Sirius Black! Put your hands where we can see them!" Gideon shouted, his wand pointed straight at Sirius.

Sirius' eyes widened in shock, "Gideon! What on earth?"

"You know what," Moody growled.

Sirius felt Hermione shiver with fear and clutch his robes tighter.

"No. I'm afraid I don't Moody. All I know is I was flying patrol, almost ran into a bloody Dark Mark, and then came inside to find my bloodsucking cousin trying to murder a little girl! And that was at least three hours ago! Where the hell have you been! I sent a patronus!"

"Hmph, that does appear to be Bellatrix Lestrange trussed up like a Christmas goose over there," Fabian commented.

Sirius was pleased to see that at least Fabian's wand wasn't pointed threateningly at him. It was instead focused on Bellatrix.

"And the, uh, mess in the other room is hours old. Say, what's that in your arms Sirius?" Gideon asked.

"Likely a weapon, drop it Black," Moody said.

Sirius began to rub Hermione's back in small circles as she began to tremble in fear. He knew she could feel all the wands pointed at them.

"She's a who, not a what, Gideon. And Moody, if you don't stop pointing that wand at my daughter I will personally make sure you can't ever hold a wand again," Sirius growled, letting some of his animagius form come out in his voice.

Moody stared at him for a moment. Sirius could see him weighing all sorts of things, finally he lowered his wand and stomped over, "You really don't know, do you?" he said as he scooped up Bellatrix's wand from the floor.

"Know what?" Sirius asked.

Gideon let out a small sigh and lowered his own wand. "The Potters were attacked last night. James and Lily are dead."

All the blood in Sirius' veins turned to ice water and then, just as quickly, his entire body was on fire as he saw red. He was on his feet, his wand in his hand and Hermione resting against his shoulder.

"I'll kill him! That little RAT! I'll-"

"Kill who? You-Know-Who? Too late for that. Harry killed him somehow. Even Dumbledore doesn't know how."

Sirius froze and looked over at Fabian, "Harry's alive?"

Fabian nodded, "So, you see, you don't need to go kill You-Know-Who."

"That wasn't who I was going to kill."

All three of the wizards frowned at him, "Then who were you going to kill?" Gideon asked.

"Peter Pettigrew. He was the Secret Keeper. I was supposed to be, but we switched, because I'm so obvious."

Moody snorted, "You would be obvious."

"But you can't go after Pettigrew," Fabian said. "You just said you have a daughter," he waved at Hermione, "and I'm sure that's a long story, but now you also have Harry to worry about. Let us go after Pettigrew. He doesn't know that we know he's a traitor."

"Mind if I verify your story, Black?" Moody asked.

"Sure, you must have veritaserum on you. Constant vigilance after all."

It took only a few minutes for Moody to confirm Sirius' story. By the time the veritaserum wore off Moody was grinning. Making the other three men in the room shiver in fear. Sirius never, ever wanted to see Moody grin like that ever again.

"I love a good traitor hunt. Now, let's get some more aurors in here and get the scene processed. Then you can go track down Harry, I'm sure Albus has him in a safe place, and we can go track down our rat of a traitor."

And so Sirius Black spent the next hour holding Hermione Black in his arms, answering questions, and trying to wrap his brain around in just how many ways his world had changed in the last few hours – in the good and the bad.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://enigmaticrose4.tumblr.com/)!


	2. Time Marches On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius collects his godson and does his best to raise Harry and Hermione right.

                 Albus folded his hands and took a deep breath, “I’m sorry Sirius, but I cannot let Harry live with you.  There are wards erected to protect him.  Wards tied directly to his mother’s blood.  He’s only safe from the remaining Death Eaters if he remains with his aunt.”

                Sirius shifted Hermione in his arms and leaned forwards, a deadly solemnity in his eyes.  One the Headmaster had never seen before.  “And I’m sorry Albus, but he’s my godson.  Lily and James charged me with raising and keeping him safe if something happened.  He may be safe from Death Eaters with Petunia, but he will not be raised.  Rather he will raise himself.  I know Petunia.  I know the stories of her.  Hell, I even met her at the wedding.  She wants nothing to do with magic.  She may never actively hurt Harry, she may even think she is doing the best she can, but she will neglect him.  Just ask your pet of a Potions Master.  Snivellus grew up with her, he’ll confirm what I said.  If for no other reason than not wanting to see Lily’s child hurt.”

                “We can take precautions.  Set up someone to watch them and ensure that Harry is well cared for.  It has been done in the past.”

                “No, he’ll live with me and Hermione.  End of story.  James and Lily would turn in their graves if they knew their son was being raised in a less than healthy environment.”

                Albus quickly shifted gears.  “Sirius, you can’t be serious. What do you know about raising children?  You already have a daughter you barely know what to do with, and now you want a son too?”

                Sirius glanced down at the very serious little girl sitting in his lap.  She hadn’t spoken since that night, which worried him, but he knew her nightmares were becoming less frequent.  And she seemed to be actively studying the world around her, not moving through it in a daze as she had for the first week.  Right now she was staring curiously at Fawkes the phoenix, watching as he preened himself. 

                Fawkes looked up and over at the young girl, making her jump in surprise.  Sirius felt a smile tug at his lips, despite the turmoil of his emotions.  Hermione had only been in his life for two weeks, and yet it felt like she’d always been there.  He hoped he could help her get over what happened on Halloween.  He’d fail as a parent if he didn’t.  And he never suffered failure, unless he started out intending to fail.  Then it was alright.

                “Albus, I’m caring for Hermione quite well.  I sold my flat in London and bought a nice cottage near Ottery St. Catchpole.  There are quite a few wizarding families there with children.  The Weasleys even have a little boy the same age as Hermione and Harry.  My cousin, Andromeda, is only a floo call away and she’s been very helpful when I have questions.  And for anything she can’t handle I have Remus and his research skills.  Many new parents have started with less.”

                Albus opened his mouth to reply, and then paused, thinking.  After a moment he sighed, “There’s no changing your mind, is there?”

                “No, and you know I’ll take it to the courts if you won’t give me Harry’s location.”

                “My dear boy, I hope you know what you’re doing.  It’s against my better judgement, but I’ll tell you.  He’s at number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging.  Try to pick him up by muggle means.”

                Sirius stood, shifting Hermione onto his hip.  She was old enough to walk, but stairs and stamina were still an issue, making travel a little complicated.

                “Thank you, Albus.  I’ll see you later.”

                “Goodbye, Sirius.” He stood and turned his once again twinkling gaze on Hermione.  “Goodbye, Miss Hermione, have fun with your new brother.”

                And then, much to Sirius’ surprise, Hermione whispered back, “Goodbye.”

                He wanted to dance with joy at her first word in two weeks, but resisted, barely.  He didn’t want to scare her.  With a last nod to Albus he left the Headmaster’s office, making his way out of the castle so he could apparate.

                A few minutes later he stood in his cousin’s small, cheery kitchen. 

                “Andromeda!  You home?” he called out.

                A young girl with neon green hair and purple eyes bounded into the room, “Uncle Sirius!  Mummy is in the garden, want me to get her?”

                Sirirus smiled down at his ‘niece’, “No, Dora, that’s fine.  I’ll go talk to her if you’ll keep an eye on Hermione for me.”

                “Sure!  We can go see my new dollhouse!  I got it for my birthday!”

                Sirius put Hermione down, who quickly found her hand grabbed by Dora.  Hermione immediately stiffened and stared down at the hand holding her own scarred one.  She hadn’t let anyone but Sirius touch her in two weeks, not even the doctors.  Sadly, they’d been unable to heal all the cuts on her limbs, the knife had been cursed to leave permeant scars. 

                “Oh, do you not want to hold my hand?  It’s okay.  I just hold hands so I don’t trip so much.  You see, I’m terribly clumsy.  Or so my Mummy says.”

                Dora started to remove her hand from Hermione’s, but was stopped.

                “Is okay,” Hermione whispered.

                Dora smiled brightly, “Good!  Then let’s go!”

                Sirius watched the two girls walk off, a lightness in his chest that had been missing over the past few weeks.  Maybe they would all be able to heal once he got Harry back.  But first he had to get Harry.

                It only took a moment to let Andromeda know that her 8-year-old daughter was playing with Hermione while he went with Remus to collect Harry.

                Thirty minutes later he had collected Remus from his home and they had boarded the Knight Bus for Little Whinging.  Neither of them knew enough about the area to apparate there, so the bus it was.

                The bus was fairly empty and the two of them found seats on the deserted third floor.  Remus sat on a squishy armchair across from Sirius, staring at him rather seriously.  Sirius could guess why – this was the first time the two of them had been alone since Halloween.

                “Well, are you going to spit it out?”

                Remus closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, “Do you have to be so blunt?”

                “I’m always blunt, you know that.  If I wasn’t I wouldn’t have nearly so many problems.”

                “True.  So, mind telling me why I wasn’t told the secret keeper changed?  Or even why I wasn’t considered before Peter?”

                “The Death Eaters would find you much too easy to break.”

                Remus frowned, “Excuse me?”

                “Exactly what I said.  All they’d have to do is keep you looked up over a full moon with an innocent child.  You’d either go insane or break.  Likely the former.  None of us could stomach that idea, so we distanced ourselves.  Hoped that would remove suspicion from you.  Keep you safe.”

                Remus looked sick at this, “Oh, Merlin.”

                Sirius leaned forwards and put a hand on Remus’ knee.  “I want you to know, it killed us, pretending like we didn’t trust you, but we had to.  And it’s not your fault either.  You didn’t choose to become a werewolf.  It was war, we did what we had to.”

                Remus chuckled sickly, “When in the world did you become so wise?”

                “Turns out James spoke the truth when he said becoming a parent changes you.  I have to be wise.  I have to stop and think.  What happens to Hermione and Harry if I don’t?  The law won’t let you be their guardian if I end up dead or in prison.”

                “What indeed?” Remus whispered.

                The two of them spent the rest of the bus ride in their own thoughts.  Wondering just what other changes had been wrought from those terrible events two weeks previously.

                XXX

                Petunia had just put the casserole in the oven for dinner when the doorbell rang.  Curious, she plastered a smile on her face and opened the door.

                It only took her a moment to realize that the two men standing at her door were freaks.  If there clothes hadn’t given them away she would’ve known from their faces.  They’d been at Lily’s wedding.  And she and Vernon had been the only two normal people there.

                “What do you want?” she spat out.

                The dark-haired one sneered at her, “What do you think we want Petunia?  Harry of course.”

                Her smile turned into a grimace, “Let me get him.”

                She started to slam the door in their faces, but he put a hand up, stopping her.  “You really don’t want to leave us standing on the front stoop.”

                She pursed her lips in frustration and then spun around.  She headed straight for the cupboard under the stairs.  Yanking it open she stepped back and gestured at the contents.

                “There, take him.  Just know if you change your mind I’m not taking him back again.”

                “You kept him in a CUPBOARD?” the dark-haired one exploded.

                She scoffed, ignoring the way her heart raced in fear at his expression.  “Where else would we keep a freak?”

                The dark-haired one’s fists were clenched as he took a threatening step towards her.  There was an insane fury in his eyes she’d never seen before.  She stumbled backwards as the other one put a hand up, stopping him.

                “Sirius, remember what you said on the bus.”

                That stopped the dark-haired one, Sirius, in his tracks.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  When he opened his eyes again he still looked angry, but not on the verge of exploding. 

                Without a word or a glance at her he approached the cupboard and pulled out the young toddler, who was just now groggily waking up.   As soon as Sirius scooped the young boy into his arms and stood up the two men spun on their heels and quickly departed without another word.

                Petunia managed to shut and lock the front door before she collapsed, shaking, to the floor.  A moment later she began to laugh hysterically.  She’d never felt quite so afraid in her entire life. 

But it was worth it, if it got rid of the freak. 

                XXX

                The first meeting between Harry and Hermione did not go quite as Sirius had expected.  But, as Andromeda was quick to point out, there was a good ten months between the two in age.  A rather large gap when under the age of five. 

                They had stared at each other as if they were two alien species for a few minutes.  And then they had promptly ignored each other for their own toys.  What he didn’t realize at first was the instant acceptance that passed between them.  What he did notice was that as soon as Harry came to live with them, Hermione stopped having nightmares.

At least, that’s what he thought.  He learned differently on that first Christmas Eve, after staying up late to build Hermione her own dollhouse.

                He barely heard the muffled cry before it ceased.  Frowning in worry, he crept up the stairs of the cottage until he reached the small nursery that the two children currently shared.  The sight that lay before him had him smiling as tears threatened at his eyes. 

                Harry had climbed out of his own crib and was in Hermione’s toddler bed.  His little hand was wrapped in hers and he was almost humming. 

                What amazed Sirius the most about it was that he’d never found Harry outside of his crib in the morning.  The boy had to be using magic to climb back in, there was no other way.

                Maybe it was time to get rid of the crib, it obviously wasn’t doing its job.

                XXX

                The years slowly began to pass and Sirius slipped into the role of father for his two young charges.  Neither of them called him that though, he wouldn’t allow it, out of respect for their own fathers.  He was Padfoot to them.

                He managed to persuade Remus to tutor the two children when they turned five so he could go back and finish up auror training.  He loved staying home and raising Harry and Hermione, but he wanted to stop living off of his inheritance, it sat wrong with him.  Plus, he was no good at teaching young children.  Once Remus realized he was not being given charity, rather, he was performing a necessary duty, he agreed.  Before too long Remus was effectively running a one room schoolhouse made up of Harry, Hermione, the Weasleys, and Luna Lovegood.  Even the Weasley twins, a troublesome pair that took great pleasure in upsetting and pulling pranks on others, found themselves unable to pull one over on Remus Lupin.  They just couldn’t figure out how such a quiet, bookish man could spot and predict pranks so easily.

                This amused Sirius to no end.  He often teased Remus that it was all due to the Marauders that Fred and George Weasley learned some humility.  Remus admitted that he was more proud of how he taught Percy Weasley how to stay true to himself, while still relaxing.  Not that he was entirely successful, but over the two years he taught the straight-laced boy he saw him actually stop to consider, once or twice, if a rule was truly worth upholding.  Personally, Sirius thought the boy was a hopeless case, but what did he know?

                He also found it rather humorous when he caught Hermione teasing Harry about having found a girlfriend in Ginny Weasley.  Somehow he thought James and Lily would enjoy seeing their son in the midst of a young childhood romance.

                Before Sirius knew it ten years had gone by and he was sitting at the breakfast table watching two owls deliver Hogwarts letters.

                And then, even quicker, the two of them were off to school and he was alone in the cottage, with only himself for company.  Remus was still teaching Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasely, but he was now doing it at the Lovegoods’ house. 

                For the first year he kept himself busy during his off-time sorting through his inheritance.  It had been rather shocking to learn that as the last remaining member of the direct-male line holding the Black name he inherited the whole of the Black fortune, despite being disowned.  That amused him greatly, though he didn’t enjoy what it entailed. 

                Dealing with Kreacher and sorting through all of the items at Grimmauld Place was a nightmare.  After one too many fights with Kreacher over some dark object or another he finally threw up his hands in frustration.

                “Merlin’s Balls, Kreacher!  I am head of the Black Family now and if I want to torch everything here I can bloody well do so!  Now give me the twice-bedamned locket and let me get to work!”

                Kreacher stopped yanking on the chain of the locket and gazed up at Sirius, “Master means that?”

                Sirius frowned, “Means what?”

                “Master means to destroy the locket?”

                “Of course I do!  I mean to burn it with the rest of the garbage!”

                Kreacher stared “Here, Master.  Can I watch?  Will you do it now?”

                Sirius frowned in confusion, “I suppose.  Why is it so important?”

                Kreacher’s mouth opened to respond, but then he froze, obviously fighting himself.  Finally he blurted out in a rush, “Master Regulus be asking me.”

                That gave Sirius pause.  He stared at the locket carefully.  If Regulus had wanted it destroyed…and Regulus had been working for Lord Voldemort before he disappeared…

                Sirius’ heart gave a lurch and he had the sudden urge to be sick.  Regulus…his baby brother…

                He clenched his jaw as his blood began to boil in anger.  “Kreacher, I promise to destroy it, but I need to ask someone for help.  I’ll be right back.”

                Sirius drew his wand and sent a patronus to Albus.  He had a feeling that whatever this locket was, the Headmaster would want to see it.

                XXX

                Albus stared down at the melted lump of metal that had once been a horcrux.  It had been pure luck that they had found it.  With it destroyed, then Voldemort should lose his mortal tether and move on. 

                Should being the optimum word.

                Because he hadn’t.

                No, he’d possessed Quirrell and tried to steal the Philosopher’s Stone.  Albus groaned and put his head in his hands.

                It had been a long day.

                And he was getting too old for this.

                He’d rushed off to 12 Grimmauld Place as soon as he got the patronus.  Then, after destroying that, he’d received a message saying he was needed in London.  Upon arriving he’d gotten an incredibly bad feeling and instantly apparated to Hogsmeade.  He’d run past Hermione Black helping Ronald Weasley back through the trapdoor.  He’d gotten to Harry Potter just as the boy had passed out.  After mysteriously burning Quirell with his touch, when Albus knew for a fact that blood protection should not be active.  He’d witnessed Voldemort’s spirit fleeing his dying servant.

                He knew he wasn’t gone.

                And he knew he should be, since his remaining here meant one thing and one thing only.

                There were more horcruxes.

                Which had to be impossible.

                Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up my own reasoning for why they didn't trust Remus. Also, Sirius terrifying Petunia was fun.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://enigmaticrose4.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Introducing Miss Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione begins her second year at Hogwarts and proceeds to foil some plans.

Hermione Black sat on the Hogwarts Express watching her young red-headed neighbor with a curious expression on her face.

Ginny Weasley was probably the least studious person she knew, outside of Ronald Weasley, and yet she was willingly sitting here, writing in a diary.

Now, that alone wouldn't strike Hermione as odd, if it weren't for the fact that Ginny had ignored an invitation to play Exploding Snap with the boys in favor of writing in said diary. She never turned down a chance to do something with Harry. She hadn't since she was five years old. Something Hermione took great pleasure in teasing her brother about.

And that meant that there was something going on with that diary. She wondered if it had anything to do with that strange house elf. The one that had tried to tell Harry about a great danger, before Kreacher had shown up and dragged it away.

Then there had been the platform barrier, refusing to let them and a long line of wizards and witches in. That little issue had delayed the train for a good thirty minutes. Something very odd was going on and she was determined to find out what. Even if it took her all year.

Not that it would. She wasn't the brightest witch in her generation for nothing. She smiled at that thought. She knew her parents would be so proud of her. Padfoot told her that all the time. She didn't remember much of her parents. Actually, her only true memory of them was of THAT night. Mentally she flinched and shied away from that memory. Instead she focused her mind on the images she'd seen of her parents. The pictures Padfoot and Uncle Remus had collected from her parent's house. Pictures of a happy, normal couple enjoying time with their daughter.

BOOM!

A loud explosion from the boys on the floor drew Hermione out of her thoughts and back into the present. She found herself laughing at the sight of Ronald Weasley with no eyebrows.

As did everyone else, though Hermione noted that Ginny had a very hard time drawing her eyes away from the diary.

Oh, yes, there was something going on there. And she was going to find out what it was.

Or her name wasn't Hermione Granger Black.

XXX

It was almost two months into school when Hermione finally got a chance to get her hands on Ginny's diary. And even then it took some careful maneuvering.

She likely wouldn't have gone to so much trouble if she hadn't been so concerned. She'd known Ginny for almost as long as she'd known Harry and the girl was acting decidedly…off.

She never tagged along after the boys anymore, nor did she ever mention Quidditch. She was also not making friends with those in her own year. It was most decidedly odd and since none of the boys saw it as peculiar, it was up to her to figure out just what was going on. Even if that meant acting like a Slytherin.

Surreptitiously she glanced up from the essay she was writing to look at the girls' staircase. Ginny had gone up to bed a while ago, so any moment now...

A high-pitched scream came tearing down the staircase and through the common room, making everyone look up in surprise and worry.

A moment later a very irate Ginny Weasley came tearing down the stairs. Everyone stared at her in shock. Her once red hair was now a seasick green, which clashed terribly with her bright blue skin.

"FRED! GEORGE! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

At these words the twins in question immediately jumped up and ran up the boys' staircase. Ginny was after them a moment later, murder in her eye. Hermione wasn't exactly surprised to see Percy following them, anger on his face. Nor was she surprised to see Ron, his mouth hanging open in shock, disbelief etched into his every feature.

Hermione slipped out of her seat and raced up to Ginny's dormitory in the momentary confusion. It was a good thing that she knew Ginny always took a shower at night. And she didn't even feel bad about laying the blame on the twins. She had stolen one of their potions, after all. Which meant they'd been meaning to use it on someone. She suspected it was meant for Percy or Ron, though she'd put her money on Percy.

It only took a moment to locate the diary inside of Ginny's school bag. Carefully she slipped it into her robes and left the room. She was back downstairs and continuing her essay before Professor McGonagall arrived.

The Professor disappeared up the boys' staircase and silence descended upon the common room as everyone strained their ears to hear what was said. But no one could hear a thing and after a few minutes the Professor came down again, ushering a very angry and upset Ginny in front of her. Behind her was Percy Weasley, a grim look on his face, and he had a hold of Fred and George by their ears. They were wincing in pain as they were dragged through the silent common room and out of the portrait hole.

As soon as the portrait closed the entire room erupted as everyone began gossiping about what had happened. Hermione tuned them out and rolled her eyes. Honestly, didn't they have anything better to do?

She started to get back to her essay, but had a sudden feeling that something wasn't quite right. Frowning a bit, she looked up. It only took her a moment to locate the sense of her unease. Harry and Ron were looking very serious as they whispered to each other and wrote on a piece of parchment. She wanted to get up and go over to ask what it was about, but she knew they wouldn't tell her. It had to be against the rules and they likely didn't have a good enough reason to get her to help them break rules.

She'd just have to wait and find out. After she dealt with the strange diary of course.

XXX

The next day Ginny was back to normal, though she appeared to be in a panic. Tearing her room apart and then accusing the twins of stealing her diary. They denied it, but she refused to believe them, even sneaking into their room to search.

In this atmosphere, Hermione found herself unable to examine the diary. Instead she kept her head down and tried to act like everything was normal. Though she noticed that Ron and Harry kept whispering and planning something. She theorized that they were planning revenge on the twins for Ginny, which she thought was silly, Ginny could take care of herself. Plus, wasn't two weeks of detention with Filch punishment enough for breaking into the girls' dorm and pranking their sister? Especially since they were actually kind of innocent in this case. Even if it was their potion.

A few days later, on Halloween, Ron and Harry disappeared for a few hours in the afternoon and Hermione found herself alone in the back corner of the library.

She glanced around to make sure she was alone before pulling out the diary. She flipped through it, only to find all of the pages were blank. Frowning, she picked up her quill and began to write.

_Hello._

Then, as she watched, the ink soaked into the page and vanished. She lifted her quill to write again, but found herself frozen in shock as the ink reappeared.

_Hello. I see you've found my diary. Who are you?_

She stared at the words in horror. The diary was talking to her. And she couldn't see where it kept its brain. Every essence of her being screamed at her to put her quill down, grab the book, and take it straight to Headmaster Dumbledore. But as she watched in horror her hand moved and hovered over the page, quill poised to write.

She tried to pull it away, but found she couldn't. She felt her heart begin to race and panic surge through her. She had to write back, she just _had_ to. And so she put the quill on the book and began to write.

_I_

She started, but then she froze, using all of her willpower to stop her arm. She didn't want to give this monstrosity her name. Names held power. Plus, hers would give away too much. She was a Black, but her first name didn't follow the family naming tradition.

Tradition.

That was the keyword. Maybe tradition could save her. She released her will and let the quill start over again.

_I can hardly tell you who I am. We haven't been properly introduced._

She prayed that her Aunt Andromeda's old tales of pureblood manners were real enough to get her through whatever this was.

_I beg your pardon. I didn't realize I was dealing with a properly trained young lady. I am Tom Marvolo Riddle. If you tell me your family name I can likely recognize it, as I know many of the old families. Surely that would count as an introduction._

_I am Miss Black. Daughter of Sirius Black._

_I'm afraid I don't know a Sirius Black, perhaps my diary has been lost for longer than I had imagined. Who were your grandparents?_

Hermione sneered as she wrote the next words. She'd never in all her life called these terrible people her grandparents. But she had to answer. With something. Anything.

_My paternal grandparents were Orion and Walburga Black._

_Ah, I knew them well. They were a few years below me at Hogwarts. Very good traditional purebloods. Are you like them?_

Hermione clenched her jaw so hard she thought she might lose a tooth as she wrote the next lie.

_My father has always told me I was a proper Black. I never knew my grandfather, but Father says he would be proud of me. That I am a credit to the bloodline._

_That is good to hear. I have another question. How do you feel about muggleborns?_

Hermione stared at the book, her hand poised to write. She wanted to say the truth, to tell him she was technically a muggleborn. She had a powerful desire to tell this diary nothing but the truth. But she couldn't. No one knew she was trapped here, writing in a sentient diary. She should've taken it straight to the Headmaster. No wonder Ginny got trapped by it. She had to make the diary happy, she had to get it to release her. And so she put the quill down and let all her hatred for this particular word pour out of her. Let him assume it was for who the word referred to, not the actual word.

_You mean mudbloods? They dirty the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. It's a shame how far we've fallen._

She could feel the scars on her limbs burning, taunting her. Telling her what a big, fat liar she truly was. Tears pricked her eyes and a sob hovered in her throat. She refused to listen to those words.

They weren't true.

They weren't!

Gasping, she dragged her eyes away from her cloth covered arms and back to the words appearing in the diary in front of her.

_Then I have a task for you Miss Black. Please hand this diary off to a young mudblood or blood-traitor. If you could get it to a Ginny Weasley, that would be best. I have a task for her to complete, but she got free of my control. I'm assuming you found the diary in the trash._

_Yes, I saw the little Weasel through it out and was curious. Like any good Slytherin I gather all the information I can. Can I not help you?_

_No, I fear that the help may prove fatal and I could never put a loyal daughter of the House of Black at risk. Now go, pass the diary on to a mudblood or blood traitor._

And with those words the compulsion to write was gone. Hermione threw the quill across the library and shoved her chair backwards, jumping out of it and pressing her back to the cool stone walls. Letting the chill cool her racing heart.

That had been HORRIBLE! Thank Merlin she had such a well-known pureblood name, or she'd likely have been put under mind control, like Ginny. Even now she could feel a compulsion to pass the diary off to someone. Immediately she thought of Headmaster Dumbledore and she felt the compulsion sing in happiness. It obviously viewed him as a blood traitor, so he was an acceptable person.

Her hands were shaking as she stuffed everything into her bag and raced through the hallways. She wasn't watching where she was going though and as she rounded a corner she plowed into someone. The two of them went tumbling and she got an elbow in her side as she felt her knee hit something soft, eliciting a pained yelp from the other person.

Hermione immediately rolled to the side, clutching her stomach. Gasping for breath, she sat up and looked at the other person.

It was Draco Malfoy and he was curled up on the floor, clutching the family jewels, his face twisted in pained anger.

"Black," he spat out.

She glared at him, "Malfoy."

He started to open his mouth to say more, but was stopped by someone pointedly clearing their throat.

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Black. May I enquire as to why the two of you are up here, on the floor, rather than heading for the Halloween feast?"

Hermione ignored the question, instead she dived for the book, the compulsion almost overpowering her now that her target was in her sights. She pulled herself to her feet, ignoring the pain in her side as she held out the book.

"Headmaster, this book. You have to take it."

The Headmaster stared at the book, no twinkle was evident in his piercing blue eyes. She waited, but he didn't reach out to take it.

The compulsion was pushing on her, she felt tears begin to pour down her face. "Headmaster, take it, please. It won't do anything if you don't write in it. Please!"

She stepped forwards, shoving the book into his hands.

As soon as he had taken the book, she released it, and the compulsion left her. Sobbing, she stumbled backwards and felt herself trip and begin to fall.

She landed, once again, on Draco Malfoy.

Before she could begin to move off of him, she felt him grab her wrist.

"Black, don't move. Just…please."

She froze, more out of shock at hearing Malfoy utter the word 'please' than anything else, but it only took a moment to realize that her elbow was poised to hit the exact same location that she had so recently hit with her knee. For a moment she thought about ignoring him and moving anyways. She figured that's what he would do. But that was why she didn't. She wasn't like him. Even if they were legally and magically second cousins through the Blacks.

"Here, let me help."

Headmaster Dumbledore slipped the book into his robes and then reached down, taking Hermione's hands and carefully pulling her off of Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you need to visit the Hospital Wing?"

Malfoy cautiously pulled himself to his feet and took a tentative step. "No, sir. I'll be fine." His mouth curled into a sneer as he looked over at Hermione, "Just keep Black and her clumsy, thoughtless self away from me." He paused, and then added, insultingly, "Sir."

Before Hermione could do more than open her mouth he had disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

"Don't take his words to heart, Miss Black. Growing up a Malfoy isn't always easy."

She snorted, "Neither is going to school with one."

A hint of a smile appeared on the Headmaster's face, but he didn't respond to that. Instead he turned back towards his office, absently summoning a handkerchief and handing it to her, "Please follow me, Miss Black. I would like to know what you can tell me about this book."

She followed him, wiping the tears from her face, hopefully Malfoy would be so embarrassed about his crown jewels that he would never share the fact she had been crying.

XXX

Several hours later Albus Dumbledore sat, finally, alone in his office. One more horcrux was destroyed, nothing more than a pile of ashes, and yet he was sure they weren't finished yet.

This Horcrux was too common, too against everything Albus knew Tom to be. The man loved big, grandiose gestures. Why else would he turn a priceless heirloom into a horcrux? And then he made another one out of an old, muggle diary?

It didn't fit.

This one had to have a special purpose. It must've been meant to come back to Hogwarts and do something. And while Albus wasn't entirely sure what, he had his suspicions. Truly, Hermione Black was an amazing witch. Only she had noticed Ginny Weasley's odd behavior. And while writing in the diary herself hadn't been the soundest idea, it hadn't ended completely in disaster. She'd outsmarted Tom, letting him see what he expected to see. She'd even worked the final compulsion into helping her, knowing Tom would view him as a blood traitor.

As for sound ideas….

Albus sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking over at Fawkes, who was sleeping soundly. Perhaps sending Harry to the Dursleys hadn't been his best idea. He'd been so sure…

But if letting him grow up with Sirius gave him Hermione as a sister, then perhaps that had been the best choice. And, somehow, the blood protection was still active. He'd done research on that, and been unable to figure out why. Unless the Grangers had somehow been distantly related to the Evans Family. Since he was of the opinion that muggleborns were descended from squibs, it was a possibility. Though a very long shot. Unfortunately he didn't have the time to do some genealogy work and there was no easy spell or potion to do it for him.

He'd come so close, that long ago day, to breaking his oath to himself. He'd almost done something to Sirius. Made sure he couldn't take Harry, but that little girl, sitting there so trustingly….

Tears began to prickle at his eyes and he took a deep breath to steady himself. Hermione was not Ariana. Ariana was gone. Off on the next great adventure.

Hermione Black, sister of Harry Potter, daughter of Sirius Black, brightest witch of the century was here and she was moving forwards. Despite what had once happened to her. Despite the scars she hid under long sleeved robes.

And, if she could move forwards, so could he.

Besides, he had a task to complete. And there was no time like the present. Taking a deep breath to clear his mind, he popped a lemon drop into his mouth and walked over to his pensive. Time to see just what clues were hidden in the recesses of his mind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the diary is dealt with. Primarily because Hermione has known Ginny for years and does not accept ooc without a good reason. Also, I made myself a tumblr page under the name Engimaticrose4. I'll be posting snippets and such there if anyone is interested. And a big thank you to everyone that has reviewed, faved, or followed this fic. I don't think I've ever had such a strong response so quickly before. I hope you continue to enjoy it :)
> 
> Find me on  
> [tumblr](http://enigmaticrose4.tumblr.com/)


	4. Midnight Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Ginny begin to deal with the after-effects of the diary. Also, revenge for past injustices is gained against the Weasley Twins.

Hermione stared in horror down at the knife in her hands.  Slowly, painfully, it began to move.  She strained, fighting against it, tears streaming down her face.   

She couldn’t stop it. 

She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.  Distantly she heard a high pitched, maniacal laugh.  The knife flashed as it moved.

                Blood began to appear, but the knife never slowed.  She continued to carefully and unwillingly carve her own arms.

                Words appeared, carved into her flesh, highlighted in crimson blood. 

                Mudblood.

                Worthless.

                Scum.

                Dirt.

                Filth.

                Garbage.

                She pulled, the knife slipped.  There was too much blood. 

Her wrist was just hanging there, dangling.  The laughter intensified, as if calling for an encore.

She woke up screaming.

XXX

                Harry jerked awake.

                Hermione.

                He jumped out of his bed, nearly tripping on the curtains.  He barely remembered to grab his wand before racing out of the room and down the stairs.  It had been years since this feeling had woken him. 

                What had caused her nightmare?

                He was across the common room in the blink of an eye.  And then he was racing up the stairs.  Halfway up he felt them change, turn into a slide. 

                He didn’t even think, he jumped, grabbing onto the handrail.  He began to pull himself by his hands.  He was almost to the top when the handrail suddenly became extremely slippery, as if someone had greased it. 

                He yelped as it slipped out of his grasp.  His arms flailed as he tried to balance himself on the steep slide.  He was losing the fight with gravity, slowly tilting backwards, milliseconds away from going down the stairs head first.

                And then someone caught the front of his pajamas.

                A rather skinny, but surprisingly strong arm began to pull him up.  Harry soon found himself collapsed, panting, on top of his rescuer.

                “Where do you hide all that weight?  Why are racing up the stairs?”

                Harry raised himself up on his arms and looked down at the small, freckled face below him.  She was staring up at him curiously.  He thought he even detected a faint blush in the darkness, though he couldn’t be sure.  Speaking of blushes…

                His face heated as he realized he was lying completely on top of her.  He quickly scrambled to his feet, grabbing her hand and helping pull her up.

                “Sorry, Gin.  Nightmare.  Why are you up?”

                She shrugged, “Couldn’t sleep.”  Then she moved to the side and pointed to a door down the hall.  “That’s Hermione’s room.  Go help your sister.  I’m going to go sit by the fire for a bit.”

                Harry smiled at her and patted her on the shoulder, Ginny was a great friend.  “Thanks, Gin.”

                He quietly slipped into the girls’ room.  Glancing around, he took in the room quickly.  It only took a moment to figure out which bed was Hermione’s.  Her bed was the only one with a collapsible bookcase at the foot of it, rather than a normal trunk. 

                Sometimes her love of books came in handy.

                He slipped open the curtain of her bed and found her sitting in the middle of her bed, panting.  Her fists were clenched in the blankets and her eyes were wide, staring blindly down at the scars running up and down her arms.  The scars spelling out so many terrible, disgusting words.

                She didn’t even move as he slipped onto the bed.  He moved until he was next to her, pulling one of her hands out of the blankets and wrapping it in his own.  Then he just sat there, holding her hand and humming the same tune he’d used ten years ago.  When he’d first been woken by her cries. 

                Slowly she came back to him.  Her breathing steadied out and slowly her shoulders relaxed.  He found himself wondering what had inspired this nightmare.  She hadn’t had one since before they came to Hogwarts. 

                Abruptly she let out a sob and turned, burying her head in his shoulder.  He raised his free hand and patted her shoulder, waiting for her to cry herself out.  Eventually her sobs turned into sniffles and hiccups.  He pulled her into a hug, keeping up the humming as he began to rub her back until she quieted completely.

                “Do you want to talk about it?”

                She nodded against his chest.  So he continued to hug her and hum for another few minutes, then she began to talk.

                She told him everything that had happened over the past two months.  About her suspicions about Ginny and the diary.  How she’d stolen a potion from the twins and pranked Ginny.  Just to steal the diary.  Then how she’d overestimated herself and written in the diary, rather than turning it in.  About how she’d been forced to continue writing in the diary, how she’d lied about her blood purity.

                Then she told him of the dream.

                He kept humming and rubbing her back as she talked.  When she was all talked out he just sat there for another minute, letting the words float away.  Leaving her empty, drained. 

                “You’re smart, ‘Mione,” he began.  “You know those words aren’t true.  You’re not worthless.  Not to any of us.  You’re the best sister a boy could have.  You’re an amazingly smart witch, you make Padfoot proud every day.  I’m sure he wishes I was more like you.  You’re a great friend.  Everybody loves you.”

                She hiccupped and raised her free hand, the one he wasn’t holding, to rub the tears off her face.  “Not everyone loves me.  Professor Snape thinks I’m a bratty know-it-all.  Malfoy can’t stand me.  None of the Slytherins can.”

                “Hermione, Snape only hates you because of Padfoot.  Same with Malfoy.  You’re stealing his inheritance just by existing.  As for the rest of the Slytherins, forget them.  They’re sheep, following the loudest windbag.”

                She giggled at that image. 

                “See?  You’ve also got a great sense of humor.”

                She pulled back and semi-mock glared at him, “People only say that about ugly girls.”

                He grinned at her, then reached up and pushed the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.  “Now you’re just fishing for compliments.  You know very well that you’re beautiful.  I’ve overheard the other girls complaining about how lucky you are to have such soft, wavy black hair.”  He made a face, “Not to mention I have to deal with overhearing boys comment on how lucky I am to have such a beautiful sister.”

                She giggled and rolled her eyes, “Now I know you’re lying.  I can see others envying my hair, but not my face.  Goodnight, Harry.”

                He smiled as she laid down and got comfortable, being careful not to let go of his hand. 

“Night, Mione.”

                He sat there, holding her hand and humming again until he heard her breathing change.  Then he continued to sit there for another few minutes before slowly untangling his fingers from hers. 

                He peeked out of the bed, being sure that no one else was awake.  Then he crept out of the room and to the stairs.  He had a suspicion that they would turn back into a slide as soon as he stepped back onto it.  So, rather than risking his neck, he sat down at the top of the stairs and then scooted forwards.    

                He was right.

                As soon as his bottom touched the top step the stairs turned into a slide and he found himself only moments later sitting on the floor of the common room.  Glancing around, he saw Ginny curled up on a sofa in front of the fire.  She had a blanket wrapped around her, only her small, paleface was sticking out of it.

                “Hey, Gin.”

                She looked up from where she’d been staring intently at the glowing coals.  “Is Hermione alright?  It’s been awhile since she’s had one, hasn’t it?”

                He stood up and headed over to sit next to her.  “Yes, she, uh, had a bad day and it brought everything back.”  He wondered if he should tell Ginny about everything he knew.  Hermione hadn’t said if the Headmaster had spoken to Ginny about the diary or not.

                “It was the diary, wasn’t it?”

                Well, now he knew that Ginny did indeed know.

                “Yes, she was forced to continue writing in it earlier today.  It made her think about the scars being written and...” he trailed off.  Not wanting to share Hermione’s nightmares without her permission.

                Ginny didn’t push though, she just nodded and turned back to stare at the fire.  They sat there for a few minutes and Harry began to get the niggling feeling that Ginny was quite possibly unable to sleep for the same reason Hermione had woken up.  She just didn’t have a brother that seemed to share an almost psychic link with her.

                So, before he thought about it too much, he reached over and found her hand under the blanket, holding it in his, then he began humming.  She jumped in surprise at his touch, turning from the fire to stare at him.  He just gave her a soft smile and continued to hum.  She studied his face and then closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the sofa.  As he watched her shoulders began to relax and her thumb began to move, stroking the back of his hand. 

                Harry’s heart gave a lurch and he felt his breath sped up.  After a few more minutes though Ginny became still and her breathing changed.  Harry thought about getting up, but he was so warm and comfortable in front of the fire.  He reached over with his free hand and shifted the blanket so it was covering both of them.  He then leaned his head back and let himself drift off. 

XXX

                Hermione woke up early, as she always did, but especially after a nightmare.  She really was glad she’d learned how to cast a silencing charm on her bed last year – just in case.    The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon when she slipped down the stairs to the common room.  She enjoyed being the first one up on Sunday morning.  Having the common room to herself was lovely. 

                This morning though, she wasn’t alone.  Her eyebrows disappeared into her hair as she gazed in shock at the sight before her.  Harry and Ginny lay sound asleep on a sofa in front of the fireplace, its contents nothing but glowing coals by this point.

                Harry was sitting up, but tilted to one side, his head resting in the corner where the armrest met the back.  Ginny was leaning against him, their hands were entwined on top of the blanket they were sharing.

                Oh, she was going to so love teasing him about this.  That is, once she made sure the two of them were safe from the Weasley boys.  She was pretty sure they would be fine with Harry and Ginny dating one day.  But not now.  Plus the twins would just love an excuse to prank Harry.

                She noisily cleared her throat, but the two of them continued sleeping.  She rolled her eyes and walked over to the couch.  She bent down and grabbed one edge of the blanket, then she ripped it off the two of them, noisily clearing her throat again. 

                “One more minute, Mione,” Harry mumbled sleepily.  His hand was blindly reaching around, searching for the blanket even as he burrowed deeper into the couch.

                She giggled.

                Ginny, on the other hand, woke up rather quickly.  As soon as the blanket came off her eyes opened and her fists came up.

                Hermione found that rather telling.

                “Hermione?  What are you…?” Ginny trailed off as the sleep disappeared from her eyes and she got a good look at where she was.

                “I figured you didn’t want your brothers to find you two like this.  Or, really, anyone.”

                Ginny’s eyes widened as she realized what would likely happen if it had been anyone else to find them.  She leapt to her feet and started to rush out of the common room, but at the foot of the staircase she stopped and turned around.

                “Hermione?”

                Hermione stopped folding up the blanket and looked over at the red-haired girl.

                “Yes, Ginny?”

                “Thank you, for…for everything.  For noticing and doing something.  It…it was terrible.”

                Hermione put the blanket down and crossed the room, she pulled Ginny into a hug.  “Don’t thank me.  That’s what friends are for.”

                Ginny sniffled, but said nothing, giving Hermione a quick squeeze and then pulling back.  She gave Hermione a teary smile and then rushed up the stairs. 

                Hermione watched Ginny disappear, and then she smiled sadly.  Until this moment only she and Harry had anything dark in their pasts.  She didn’t know exactly how bad the diary had been with Ginny, but if she had to guess, she’d say it was pretty bad.  Bad enough to make Harry use his nightmare cure. 

                Speaking of Harry…

                She walked back over to the couch and gazed down at her snoozing brother.  She really should leave him here for the others to find.  She really, really should.

                But then he shifted, his hand moving around, as if searching for something.  She reached out and took it.  He smiled in his sleep and then began to hum.  Tears pricked her eyes.

                She should leave him here, but, really, how could she?

                Sighing, she shifted her weight and then gave his arm a solid yank.  She barely let go and stepped out of the way in time to avoid being crushed under him as he came flying off the couch.  For half a second it was as if he was frozen in place.  One foot on the rug, the other in the air and his arms pin wheeling around him.  And then he hit the ground, rolled, and came back up with his wand in his hand.  Looked like he’d been practicing the moves Padfoot had been forcing them to learn the past few years. 

                Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the book she’d brought down with her and moved to sit in a big arm chair.  As she sat down she glanced over at Harry, who was now looking at her as he slowly lowered his wand and blinked the sleep from his eyes.  She raised her left eyebrow.

                “Remember last night?  Ginny?”

                She watched in amusement as he suddenly remembered why he was there, then his face turned a nice shade of pink before he got up and hurried out of the room.

                She just barely heard him mutter a quiet, “Thanks, Mione,” before he disappeared up the stairs.

                She giggled and opened her book to begin reading.  She loved Sunday mornings.

XXX

                Life returned to normal, or as normal as it could be at Hogwarts, after that.  Though she did notice that Ron and Harry continued to whisper to each other, quickly growing quiet when she drew near. 

                It wasn’t until after Christmas that she finally learned what they were planning.  And that was only because they finally decided that they needed her help.

                “You two do realize that the twins didn’t actually slip Ginny that potion?” she asked in exasperation after hearing their plan.

                Ron shrugged, “Well, yes, we know that now.  But they still need to have a good prank pulled on them.  Remember when they turned my teddy bear into a spider?”

                “Or made your hair become so charged with electricity it turned you into a puff ball?  You spent two days not being able to touch anyone.  You were practically in tears by the end of it.”

                She pursed her lips at that memory.  It hadn’t just been people.  She’d zapped herself every time she’d touched something metal.  Padfoot had transfigured all of the flatware into wood just so she could eat safely.  Mrs. Weasley had given the twins a good earful over that, but they hadn’t seemed too bothered by it.

                “Or when they put a basketful of snakes in Harry’s bed?”

                “Ron, you know that backfired.  They didn’t realize Harry could talk to them.  Mrs. Weasley was so happy we cleared up the mouse problem in her attic after that.  Even if they had a bad habit of curling up in the twins’ beds.  Personally, I think they deserved to find snakes as bedmates.”

                “Fine, that one doesn’t count.  But what about when they made every piece of homework you turned into Mr. Lupin crumble to ashes as soon as you let go of it?”

                “Or how about when they-”

                “Okay!  Okay!” She cut them off.  That homework destroying curse had been TERRIBLE.  “You may have a point.  They did make that potion, after all.  They meant to use it on _someone_.”

                “I knew you’d see that!  No one pulls the wool over your eyes!” Ron said.

                Hermione rolled her eyes at him.  He just snickered.

                “And it’s not like this is a terrible prank.  All it will really do is make them annoyed.  We just want to make them get a bit of their own medicine.”

                “I still don’t quite see why you need me.  Ron, you planned how to set the prank and Harry found the proper spells to make the potion semi-permanent.  Why do you need me?”

                The two boys grinned at her, which scared her a bit.  Usually they all ended up in trouble when they grinned like that.

                XXX

                The screams erupting from the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory made everyone stop what they were doing.  Many students dropped their quills, some even spilled their ink bottles.  It was late Sunday afternoon and most people were finishing up as much homework as they could before dinner.

                Not the twins though, they’d headed upstairs after lunch to work on some of their own experiments.  Sadly, for them at least, they’d failed to notice the charmed potion coating their safety goggles.

                To everyone else, it was quite entertaining.

                Fred Weasley was the lucky winner of the pink goggles.  Every part of himself, except the part covered by the goggles, including a thin strip of hair, turned a glowing, neon pink.

                George Weasley, on the other hand, had gotten neon green.  They really complimented each other.  And, for once, everyone knew which was which.

                Hermione was rather proud of that effect.  She’d enjoyed manipulating the color changing potion until it made things glow as well.  She planned to brew some more of it and use it to paint constellations on the curtains of her bed at Hogwarts, as well as her ceiling back home.  She’d had several minor nightmares since Halloween and thought the constellation Canis Major would help keep them at bay.

                The glow made it rather difficult for the twins to pull off unnoticed pranks.  The entire school found it hilarious, and the twins tried to work with it, but after a week everyone could tell it was beginning to wear on them.  They could no longer confuse people with their names, one of their favorite jokes.  Personally, Hermione thought this was a good learning experience for them.  They needed to develop some new jokes.  You had to keep jokes fresh if you wanted to make a name for yourself.

                After three weeks Harry snuck into the fourth year boys’ room and put the antidote in their shampoo.  When the twins got out of the shower and were back to normal and they were entirely confused.

                Ron snickered when the twins came down to breakfast looking like normal again.  They were rather jumpy, glancing around, as if afraid something else was about to happen.  She figured they were most disturbed by the fact that they were unable to identify the perpetrator. 

                “Really, Ron, try to be mature,” Hermione said as she buttered a piece of toast.

                “Ron, mature?  Hermione, you do realize if he acts mature you won’t have anyone to boss around,” Harry said.

                She lowered the toast and looked at her brother, “Oh, I think I could find a replacement.”

                “Like who?” Ron asked.

                Now, that was a good question.  Hermione glanced around the Great Hall until her eyes fell on the Slytherin table and Malfoy. 

                The boys followed her gaze, Harry began snickering and Ron’s face turned into one of abject horror.

                “Malfoy, you want to boss Malfoy around?!?” Ron asked.

                She shrugged, “I doubt anyone’s ever told him what to do.  It would be good for him.  Besides, he is my cousin.  I think I have a right to boss him around if necessary.”

                “Hermione.  He’s only your cousin through the adoption.  And even then he’s your second cousin.  Ron’s more related to him than you are, and they’re fourth cousins,” Harry said.

                “Because of the ritual my mother and Padfoot performed I do have Black blood in me Harry.”

                “Yes, but only a tiny bit.  Not enough to really affect your genetics.  Only your magic, which is why you have the Black hair.  Ron’s got more Black genes than you.  Though his magic is all Weasley, just look at his hair.”

                “Scary to think that my grandmother was a Black,” Ron muttered.

                Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Neville.

                “What are genetics?”

                Ron, Harry, and Hermione looked at Neville in surprise.  They’d forgotten he was sitting there.  Neville was very adept at making himself disappear into the background. 

                “Didn’t you learn about genetics when you learned science?” Ron asked.

                Now Neville looked really confused, “Science?”

                “Oh dear…” Hermione murmured, “I guess Uncle Remus was right.  Neville, come with me to the library during break time.  I’ll explain everything.”

                Neville’s eyes widened in apprehension, “Uh, no, that’s okay.  I don’t need-”

                Ron cut him off, “Actually, you do mate, you really do.”

                Harry nodded in agreement and Neville realized he couldn’t stand up to all three of them.  Not when they were this determined.  He’d learned that lesson last year.  Though he would do his best not to make it easy for them.

                Hermione began planning out exactly how to teach Neville about genetics and the dangers of inbreeding.  Oh, this was going to be fun!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JK, why did you have to create this Fleamont fellow.  I mean, cool story, but I liked the idea of Harry and Draco being third cousins through the Blacks!  *grumble* *grumble* I think she just came up with him so she’d have more info for Pottermore.  Plus it let her tidy up her math fails a bit.  I considered ignoring Fleamont, but being related isn’t really important to the story.


	5. So Many Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finds things returning to normal. Sirius finds himself focusing on the past, while thinking on the future.

                The months slipped by and before Hermione knew it the school year was over and she was once again ensconced in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express with some of her favorite people.           

And everything was back as it should be.

                Ginny was sitting cross-legged on the floor soundly stomping the boys in Exploding Snap, much to their annoyance.  Luna was watching them play, a look of mild puzzlement on her face, but that didn’t bother Hermione.  She knew Luna didn’t quite understand the point of playing card games.  And Hermione could relate, it seemed a rather silly way to spend the time.  Though she no longer felt the urge to discover just why her thoughts on the matter were so different from most peoples.

                Sometimes it was better to just accept something and move on, that’s what Aunt Andy always said at least. 

                Though Padfoot always rolled his eyes at that pronouncement.  She couldn’t quite figure out why, but she would.  It was on her list of mysteries.  Right up there with why her cousin Dora always blushed and hid from Uncle Remus.  Something she’d been doing for as long as Hermione could remember.  However, those two mysteries weren’t nearly as far up as the biggest mystery of all: Why had Bellatrix Lestrange née Black attacked her parents?

                Padfoot said there was no reason for it, that his cousin was just an insane psychopath.  But Hermione knew that didn’t explain everything.  She remembered that night.  It was etched into her brain, thanks to the nightmares, just as much as it was etched into her limbs.

                She unconsciously tugged at the sleeves of her robes, making sure they were pulled down far enough to cover her. 

                Bellatrix had known Hermione was a witch.  She’d known before Hermione had ever done anything to make her parents wonder. 

                She was sure of that.

                So just how had Bellatrix found out?

                The compartment door slide open and Hermione looked up from the book she’d been staring at, but not reading.  Draco Malfoy, flunked by his two goons, stood in the doorway.

                He slowly looked around the room before letting his eyes settle on the group sitting on the floor.  He sneered, “Sitting on the floor like a bunch of animals, I should’ve expected that.”

                Harry scowled and opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione beat him to it.

                “Really, Malfoy, you’d think you were raised in a barn.  Unable to recognize the only appropriate way to play a game of Exploding Snap without destroying the furniture.”

                “Yes, Wrackspurts truly hate destroyed furniture.  They get particularly vicious,” Luna said dreamily.

                Malfoy’s eyes narrowed, but he focused them on Hermione, ignoring Luna.  “Black, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.  I thought there were only boys in here.”

                “Why, you-!” Ginny began, jumping to her feet, reaching for her wand.  Ron, Harry, and Neville were right behind her.

                Hermione sighed and snapped her book closed before standing up.  She moved and pushed to the front of the little group, next to Harry, drawing her wand as she did so.  She crossed her arms and glared at Malfoy, standing at her tallest, which was at least two inches taller than him.  She’d started to hit her growth spurt already, and she didn’t think he’d grown an inch since they started at Hogwarts.

                “Draco Malfoy, how dare you offer such base insults.  Your mother would be ashamed if she heard you!” She began, just warming up.

                His hands clenched into fists, “Just what do you know about my mother, Black!”

                She sniffed, trying to channel her ‘inner Black’ as Aunt Andy called it.  Though it was hard, she wanted to burst out laughing at the pinched look on Malfoy’s face.  He looked just like he had after she’d accidently damaged his crown jewels.

                “Draco Malfoy, didn’t you pay attention to your studies?  I am a Black.  Your mother is a Black, no matter what her last name currently is.  She is the younger sister of my beloved Aunt Andromeda.  I likely know more about your mother than you do.  Including the fact that while she rarely insults a person, when she does, she makes sure that it is properly sharpened and aimed.  She does not just grab whatever ammunition she can find and begin lobbing it, hoping it will hit.  You really should have listened to her better.  You’re doing a terrible job of being a Slytherin.  At least when it comes to cunning.  You do fit the ambitious side, perhaps a bit too much.  You do know what happens to those with too much ambition and too little between their ears, right?”

                Malfoy’s jaw dropped.  He stared at her for a moment, his face turning a delightful shade of purple.  Then he snapped his mouth closed and whirled around, storming out of the compartment.  His two goons followed him, barely avoiding being caught in the slamming door.

                Silence reined in the compartment, everyone just stared at her as she went to go sit back down.

                After she was settled, Ron finally broke the silence.

                “Bloody hell, she was serious.”

                She looked up at him from her book, “Really, Ron, language.”

                Neville chuckled, “Guess she needed two boys to boss around.”

                Ginny giggled, “Poor Ron, looks like you weren’t bad enough to require her full attention.”

                Ron seemed to think on that for a moment, and then he broke into a grin, “That’s alright.  Harry, do you suppose my mother could make me a sweater in the exact same shade as Malfoy’s face just now?”

                “How will your mom know the color?”  Harry asked.

                “I have a beautiful purple paint that’s the right shade.  I could bring it over,” Luna said helpfully.

                Ron grinned at her, “Brilliant!  Think you could come over tomorrow?”

                Luna smiled a bit dreamily and looked out the window, “I think so, but I’ll need to make sure there are no nargles in the paint.  You know they like to crawl in there during the winter, then they forget to leave.”

                Ron chuckled, “That’s alright Luna, I’m pretty sure I saw a nargle or two on Malfoy’s face just now.”

                “Maybe that’s what he was trying to catch with his mouth,” Harry said.

                The entire compartment burst out laughing at that, even Hermione.  Her list of mysteries pushed to the back of her mind.  She was young, she’d have time to deal with them later.

XXX

                “Albus, are we right?  Is that it?”

                The old, brightly robed wizard said nothing.  He simply continued to reach forward.  Sirius frowned.

                “Albus?”

                The old wizard said nothing.  Rather, he picked up something from under the floor boards and held it up, looking at it.  A bad feeling formed in the pit of Sirius’ stomach. 

                He began to cross the room, wanting a closer look at whatever had entranced the Headmaster, half afraid of what he would see.

Albus was staring intently at the ugliest ring Sirius had ever seen.  There was a look of shock and recognition on the old wizard’s face. 

                “Albus, what is it?  Is it another Hogwarts artifact?”

                The wizard ignored him, staring fixedly at the ring as he began to slowly lower it toward his hand.

                Now, Sirius knew something was wrong.  And it had to be because of that ring.

                His training took over and he hit the ring out of Albus’ hand, making it fly across the room and hit a wall.  The two men stood frozen for a moment.  Both of them watching the ring bounce onto the floor and then roll across the room, until it settled against a warped floorboard.  Right next to a broken footstool.

                As soon as it stopped moving Albus let out a sob and collapsed.  As if he had no more strength inside of him.

                Sirius grabbed him under the arm and quickly summoned a chair, letting Albus sink into it.  He wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, but he knew it was all because of the ring.  It had to be a horcrux, and a much nastier one than the others if it had affected the great Albus Dumbledore so strongly. 

                Once he was sure that Albus was not going to fall out of the chair he picked up the broken stool and transfigured it into a box.  Then he tore off part of his robes and picked up the ring, being careful not to touch it.  He stared at it for a moment, curious as to what curse lay on it.  He wasn’t a curse breaker though.  And, really, they didn’t need to break the curse to destroy it.  Fiendfyre consumed all magic it touched.  That’s why the only way to kill it was to cut off its ability to feed on the life and magic around it.  A very difficult thing to do.

                He dropped the ring into the box and then headed outside.

                He cleared a patch of ground of all vegetation, and then put the box down.  A moment later a piercing wail emerged from the dancing flames and Sirius found himself Grinning.

                One more horcrux down.  That was three destroyed, and Albus didn’t think there were more than six or seven.  So they were halfway there.  Hopefully they could get rid of all of them before Voldemort returned and Harry was forced to fulfill the prophecy. 

                He wanted Harry to have a normal life.  He knew that’s what James and Lily would want.  And even though he didn’t know Gertrude and Dan Granger, he was sure they’d want their daughter to have a normal life.  To spend her teen years with only studies and boys, or girls, to worry about. 

                He set his jaw and waved his wand, extinguishing the fiendfyre.  Sometimes he wondered if he’d done a good job of raising those two.  He was sure their parents could have done a better job than him.  That thought kept him up at nights.  He couldn’t count the number of times he’d found himself unable to sleep.  Too worried he was screwing up their lives.  It didn’t matter what Andy or Remus told him.  They didn’t know how many times he’d almost let his temper get the better of him.  They didn’t know how tempted he’d been in the first few years to just go, leave, drop the kids off with Andy and disappear for a few weeks.

                It was so hard being a parent.  Especially when you never planned or wanted to be one.

Only the fact that he knew he was doing a better job than Petunia, or whomever Hermione would’ve been given to, settled him down.  Hermione would most likely have fallen into the system.

                He’d double-checked when he and Remus had gone back to the house.  They’d collected jewelry and photos to give Hermione, so she’d have pieces of her parents.  He’d even gone through their finances, with Remus’ help, and gotten the money organized for Hermione.  Gertrude Granger had spoken the truth, there had been no one else to take Hermione.

                It still gave him chills, thinking of how easily Gertrude had whispered her part of the binding spell.  How she’d given control of her daughter to a man she’d just met, the cousin of her murderer.

                He didn’t think he could’ve done it if he’d been in the same situation.

                But, then, he’d never really been a good man.  That had been James’ job.  James had been the hero, the one everyone looked up to.  He’d been the good cop to Sirius’ bad cop.  Hell, Sirius had always known that.  It was why he’d had no problem telling Snivellus to go to the Shrieking Shack.  He’d figured that was the only way to show him that dark wasn’t good.  He’d wanted to scare Snivellus straight, make him realize just how dangerous and evil dark things were. 

                More than any of his friends, Sirius knew the allure of darkness.  He was a Black.  The Black family magic coursed through his veins.  He was strongly attracted to darkness.  But he also knew just where that road led.

                It led to insanity like Bellatrix, misery like Narcissa, or death like Regulus.

                Snivellus hadn’t known.  He hadn’t known the power of family magics.  Or how they were passed on.  Sirius didn’t really know Snape’s family history, he’d never cared very much, but he had known he was a half-blood.  And that he hadn’t inherited the Prince magic.  Which meant he’d created his own. 

                And so he’d been able to change that magic, make it different.  Unfortunately, Sirius had been rather stupid.  Sending a fellow fifteen year old out to play with a werewolf on the full moon was not the way to scare him straight.  As James had quickly pointed out before going to save Snape.

                Good cop, bad cop. 

They would’ve made a hell of an auror team. 

                Sighing, he shoke his head to remove thoughts of the past and chase away the tears prickling at his eyes.  Looking down, he kicked at the ashes searching for the remnants of the ring.

                His toe hit something and he rolled it out of the ashes.  A misshapen, melted lump of metal lay on the ground.  The shiny, dark stone nestled inside of the metal.  Curious, he bent over and picked it up.  The stone had some sort of carving on it, but part of it was covered up by the metal.

                “I apologize, Sirius.”

                He looked up and saw the Headmaster standing in the doorway of the rundown cottage.  He looked older than Sirius had ever seen him.  As if he had lost all of the life in him.

                “Don’t apologize, Albus.  There was a curse on the ring.  I’m just glad you asked me to accompany me.  Don’t go searching for anymore without us, alright?”

                Albus sighed and closed the distance between them, looking down at the metal covered stone in Sirius’ hand. 

                “I’ll do my best, but I make no promises.”

                “That’s all anyone can do,” Sirius said, absently dropping the rock in the Headmaster’s outstretched hand.

                “I’m going to head home.  The kids should be back from the Weasley’s soon.  And Remus is coming over for dinner.  Let me know when you have another lead.”

                “Alright, goodbye, Sirius.”

                Sirius nodded and turned on his heels, appearing at the gate to his cottage a moment later.  A smile ghosted across his features as he took in the sight before him.  Who’d have ever thought he’d live in such a picture perfect place? 

                Strong, ancient oaks cast shade upon the plaster and timber house.  A gravel path lead from the garden gate up to the well-polished door.  Sturdy window boxes, overflowing with a colorful array of flowers sat under each of the windows.  Birdsong drifted through the air, harmonizing with the summer breeze rustling through the trees.

                He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the location relax him, forcing away the memories of the past.  He wasn’t the bad cop anymore, he wasn’t the black sheep of the Black family.  No longer trapped with magic that kept taunting him, teasing him, tempting him to follow the family path.

                He was head of the family, capable of steering the family away from its dark roots.  Hermione wouldn’t grow up fighting the urges her magic gave her, not like he did.  She’d-

                “My dear cousin, if I was my lovely sister you would be dead.”

                Sirius jerked and tensed.  He didn’t think as he whipped his wand out of his sleeve and turned to face the speaker. 

                Standing there, in all her glory, was the last person he’d ever expected to see at his doorstop.

                “Narcissa.”

                She nodded coolly at him, “Sirius.”

                They stood there, eyeing each other - he couldn’t help but size his cousin up.  He hadn’t spoken to Narcissa in years.  Just glimpses of her on the Hogwarts Platform.  She was looking very good.  It was almost as if she hadn’t aged.  Her hair was perfectly coiled on her head, with just a few tendrils hanging artfully around her face, making her appear less threatening than he knew she truly was. 

                Narcissa was more dangerous than Bellatrix.  If for no other reason than that she had full control of her sanity.

                She arched one delicate eyebrow, “Well?”

                 He rolled his eyes, “Fishing for compliments?  You’re family.  I don’t have to compliment you.”

                He saw the tiniest trace of surprise on her face, “So, I’m family?  I would’ve thought you’d have disowned me.”

                He deliberately turned his back on her and opened the gate.  He glanced back over his shoulder at her.  “I’m not you, Cissy.” He enjoyed the way a scowl flickered on her face at the use of her old childhood nickname.  But she didn’t correct him.  That told him she wanted something.  Best to find out what.  “Now, would you like a cup of tea?  I’m sure you had a reason for coming here.”

                She nodded and moved to follow him, “That would be acceptable.”

                He held his hand up to stop her, “One question first – Do you mean anyone in this house harm?  Answer honestly, because if you lie and try to enter…  Well, let’s just say you won’t like the consequences.”

                She eyed the gate for a moment, something unreadable in her expression.  Eventually she shook her head, “No, I mean no one any harm.  Unless they hurt my son.”

                He nodded and turned again to head towards the cottage, he heard her follow after him immediately. 

                They chatted very pleasantly on the weather as they got settled in the sitting room and waited for Kreacher to bring them some tea.  Narcissa had looked a bit surprised to see the old house elf so happily serving Sirius.  Little did she know just what he had done to finally earn Kreacher’s respect.

                He thought she might just be horrified.

                The only question was whether she’d be horrified about the horcruxes or about part of old Moldy Voldy being destroyed.

                Once they both had steaming cups of tea in their hands he ended the small talk.

                “So, Cissy, what’s your true reason for coming here?  I know you want something.”

“What gave it away this time?”

“You hate the name Cissy.”

                She took a sip of her tea and looked at him over the top of the cup.  Studying him, judging him.  He knew those eyes well.

                When she put the cup delicately on the saucer, not clinking the china at all, she finally spoke.

                “Blunt as always I see.”

                “There’s a reason I was sorted into Gryffindor.”

                “Then how do you know the family trade so well?”

                “Survival.”

                She smirked, “Then maybe you’ll view this as survival also.”

                “Oh?”

                “I’d like to propose a betrothal agreement between Hermione Black and Draco Malfoy.”

                He nearly dropped his tea in shock.

                “WHAT?!?”

                “Exactly that.  I think Miss Black would be good for Draco.  She may not be a true pureblood, but she is the heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.  She’s also strong enough to not let Draco always get his way.  Both magically and mentally.  Oh, don’t look surprised I know this, Lucius is a School Governor, the class lists were easy to obtain.  She’s also very strong of character, a necessary skill when dealing with a Malfoy.  What happened on the train a few weeks ago was a work of art.  He can’t stop talking about her.  He’s actually stopped complaining about Harry Potter for once.  I must say his father is relieved.  So relieved that I think it will be almost no work to persuade him that this match is of his own choosing.  Besides, they’re only thirteen, so I have years to convince him if need be.”

                He just gapped at her, for once at a complete loss for words.

                She smiled, “Now, since they are both the last heirs to such great houses we could not discard either house.  I propose making them complete equals and setting the groundwork to merge the houses upon their inheriting.  They would retain their birth names and all children would be named Black-Malfoy.  Since Miss Black is adopted there are no worries about them being second cousins, which is a relief.  And the family magic for both houses is on the dark side, so it should merge well.  It will be interesting to see which hair color wins out, or if it ends up somewhere in-between.”

                His brain was in such shock he could only respond to the least important point in the entire conversation.

                “You know I’ve been changing the Black Family Magic.  It’s a slow process, but it’s changed.  Less suited for dark magic.”

                “I know, I’ve felt it.  But you won’t change it completely, because you were raised with it.  The draw of dark magic is too strong within you to eliminate it entirely.  As for our grandchildren.  They’ll be the ones to establish what strengths the new Black-Malfoy Family Magic has.”  She smiled.  “This is a huge weight off my shoulders, I’ve been worried about Draco.  He’s a Malfoy, and Malfoys have always been attracted by power.  I don’t want him to take the same path as his father.”  Her smile turned brittle, “Do you know what it feels like to not be enough for your spouse?  I’m a competent witch, but I’m not powerful enough to be what Lucius craves.  I don’t want that life for Draco.  I know what happened the night you adopted her.  She’s powerful, and she’s clever.  The right kind of clever.  She’ll keep my son happy and alive.”

                He held up a hand, “Wait.  I didn’t agree to the betrothal.”

                She looked at him speculatively, “But you will.”

                He stared at her, and threw his head back and laughed.  He couldn’t help it.  Did she really think he would agree to a betrothal between her son and Hermione?  Especially when all of the benefits seemed to be for Draco Malfoy?  Did she think he was that stupid?

                She let out a small huff, he almost didn’t catch it. 

                “What, Cissy, didn’t expect that reaction?”

                She glared at him, “I thought you’d grown up.”

                He leaned back, draping an arm over the back of the couch and resting his teacup on his knee.  “Oh, Cissy, I have grown up.  If I hadn’t I would’ve hexed you for suggesting such a thing and then proceeded to throw you out of my house.  That is, if I’d even let you in my house in the first place.”

                She slammed her cup and saucer down on the table in front of her, Sirius had to resist a wince.  Kreacher would be terribly unhappy if that cup broke. 

                “I should’ve known better than to try and reason with you,” she said standing and looking down her aristocratic nose at him.

                He snorted, “Oh, sit back down Cissy.  I said I wouldn’t agree to a betrothal.  I didn’t say I wouldn’t speak with you.”

                She didn’t move, so he quirked an eyebrow at her, taunting her.  Daring her to just leave without knowing what he planned to say.

                Neither of them moved for a full minute, but, finally, she gave in.  She sat down and carefully picked up her tea cup, taking a delicate sip.  Never once removing her eyes from his face.

                He grinned at her.  “Now, Cissy, you know I never really disliked you.  Andy is the best of the three of you, but you aren’t half bad.  And I know Andy has been missing you.” His smile dimmed a bit, “Just like I miss Regulus.”

                She gave a small start of surprise at his admission and eyed him curiously, but said nothing.

                “Now, I don’t believe in arranged marriages.  I want Hermione to be happy, and I believe she’s smart enough to decide what makes her happy on her own.  Personally I’ve always figured she’d end up with Ronald Weasley.  She and Harry are always with him, the three have been inseparable ever since they were four years old.  But I’m her father, and she’s thirteen, we don’t exactly discuss things like that, so I could be wrong.  Now, I heard about what happened on the train.  I also heard about their little tumble in front of the Headmaster.  Your son quite shocked Hermione by saying ‘Please.’  Maybe that’s why the train incident occurred, she saw a possibility there.  My daughter takes great pleasure in fixing things.  She enjoys projects, and must see your son as one.  That does not make a marriage.”

                “Draco saying ‘please’ shocked her?”

                “Oh, yes, your son does not really get along with my children.  I believe the rivalry started because Draco was rather put out that Harry preferred being friends with Ronald Weasley over him.  Can’t really blame Harry though.  Ron’s not the brightest boy sometimes, but he’s a good friend, he’d do anything for those he cares about.  He’s also a mastermind when it comes to chess.  Don’t know how when he’s so blind to other things,” he mused.

                “So you think a betrothal and eventual marriage would go poorly.”

                He shrugged, “Possibly, but then, things may change.  Which is why I want to propose something.”

                “Go on.”

                “I believe the Black Family has been estranged enough.  If you make up with Andy, and she finds it acceptable, we’ll start socializing with you.  Putting the two of them into contact outside of school.  If, as you suspect, they’ll do well together, then things will happen naturally.  And nothing will stand in Hermione’s way if she decides she wants something.  She’s rather stubborn that way.  But, on the other hand, if it is as I suspect, and they are like oil and water, things will remain as they are.  She may encourage him to be a better person if she repeats the incident on the train, even if she despises him.  So, either way, you win.”

                Her eyes narrowed, “True, it does help me quite a bit.  What do you get out of it?”

                He looked away from her, gazing out the open window at the tree dancing in the breeze outside.  “I get to see two siblings make up.  It’s too late for Regulus and me.  Don’t make the same mistake.  Ted Tonks is a great man.  Very fun and powerful.  He comes at things sideways.  Something our world desperately lives if we are to move forward.  And you should meet their daughter, your niece.  She’s a delight.  She and Regulus would’ve gotten along splendidly.”

                “And what about Bella?”

                “She’s in Azkaban.  And I hope she rots there for what she did.  Have you ever seen Hermione’s arms or legs?”   

                Narcissa shook her head.

                “That’s another reason I can’t see Hermione ever getting with your son.  What your sister did… It was terrible.  It served no purpose.  She tortured a two-year old.  A baby.  I just can’t see Hermione ending up with the nephew of the woman that did that to her.  Especially when all she has to do is push up her sleeve to see the scars.  Not to mention the fact that you and your husband pleaded for Bellatrix to get a lighter sentence.”

                “She remembers it?”

                “In her nightmares.”

                “And there’s no way to remove the scars?”

                “Bellatrix used a cursed blade.  They were barely able to heal the cuts.  The scars are charmed, they’ve grown with Hermione.  Every time she grows taller the scars grow bigger.  I haven’t looked at them closely in years, but I think they’ve also gotten clearer, easier to read.”

                “What do you mean, easier to read?”

                “Bellatrix,” he spat, “wrote disgusting, filthy words all over my daughter. Words that haunt her nightmares and hang over her everywhere she goes.  Ever since she learned to read at the age of three she’s been half-convinced those words are true.  Doesn’t matter what anyone else says.”

                A tense silence filled the room, only broken by the rustling of the leaves outside the window.  After a few minutes Narcissa quietly put her cup down and stood.

                “I’ll think about it.  If I agree I’ll pay a visit to Andromeda and send all of you invites to Draco’s birthday party.  It’s next week.”

                “When is his birthday?”

                “His birthday was June 5th, but since he’s always in school we hold a party a month later on July 5th.  It will be semi-formal.”

                Sirius nodded and looked back out the window. 

               “Oh, and Cissy?”

               He heard her pause, “Yes?”

               “If they end up together - which I highly doubt - I will be testing them for any spells or potions.  Do you understand?  If you do anything to take away my daughter’s free will, anything at all, I will make you wish you’d never been born.  That’s part of the deal.  Also, your son won’t be able to touch the Black fortune.  I’ll ensure that until a child is born Harry Potter or Nymphadora Tonks will be the heirs.”

               She didn’t say a thing, but after a moment he heard her robes rustle as she left the room.  He didn’t even spare her a glance, he was no longer in the present.  His thoughts were once again on the past.  Wondering just what would have happened if he’d tried harder with Regulus.  Just what would have happened if he’d been there for his brother?  Supporting him, like Hermione and Harry supported each other.  He’d kept Albus safe on the horcrux hunt, maybe he could’ve kept Regulus safe.

                So many mistakes in his past. 

                So many ghosts.

                Sometimes he wondered how he was still sane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts?


	6. Trusting Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns of the agreement between Sirius Black and Narcissa Malfoy.

               The fire roared – making Hermione look up from her book.  Out stepped her Aunt Andy, a thunderous look on her face.  She didn’t even glance at Hermione as she stormed out of the room and down the hallway.  A moment later a loud slam resonated through the house, making it shudder.

                Now, that was curious.  Hermione couldn’t think of the last time she’d seen her aunt this angry.  And she was obviously angry at Padfoot.  Just what had her dad done?

                Quietly she put her book down and slipped to the doorway of the sitting room.  Cautiously she glanced out into the hall, but saw no one.  Distantly she could hear raised voices coming from Padfoot’s study down the hallway.

                She moved slowly and quietly until she was standing outside the closed door.  She could almost make out what her aunt was saying.  She glanced around quickly to make sure no one was nearby, then she laid down on the floor, pressing her ear to the crack under the door. 

                “-the HELL do you think you’re doing!  I almost had a heart attack when I opened the door!  I TOLD you not to meddle!  That it wasn’t your business!  Some things-”

                “Andy, calm down, I didn’t meddle.”  Padfoot said soothingly.  Hermione could picture him holding his arms in defense.

                “Then how do you explain my sister showing up?!?  She was asking to mend things!  Wanting to repair the family!  You, Sirius Orion Black, are the head of this family!  You’re the only one that could get her to back down after ignoring me for two decades!”

                “Why don’t you sit down and let me explain?  I swear I didn’t meddle.  Not really.  I didn’t think she’d do it.”

                Aunt Andy scoffed, “And just what is she trying to do?  Get a piece of the Black pie for her son?”

                The room was silent, Hermione really wished she could see her dad’s face.  Then there was a shocked gasp, which she assumed came from her aunt. 

                “She is?  Isn’t she?  She wants to make amends, try to get you to leave something to Draco one day!”

                Padfoot gave a harsh bark of laughter, “If only.  No, she wants more than that.  Apparently she’s got it into her head that Hermione and Draco would make a good match.  They could merge the two families.  She thinks Hermione would be good for Draco.  She’s likely right.  Though I don’t think Draco would be good for Hermione.”

                Hermione stopped listening, the words she’d just heard racing through her head.  She jumped up and stumbled down the hallway, covering her mouth with her hand.  Trying not to be sick. 

               Her. 

               And Draco Malfoy. 

               A match.

               Was Narcissa Malfoy insane!?!

               How could she ever think that Hermione could marry the son of a Death Eater?  The son of the man that had bribed enough people to turn Bellatrix Lestrange’s sentence from a kiss to life imprisonment.  An action that had likely been prompted by Narcissa Malfoy?  The proud nephew of that same witch who had murdered her parents?  A boy that thought mudblood was a more acceptable term than muggleborn?

                She made it to her bathroom and shut the door.  Shaking, she leaned back against it and slowly slipped to the floor.  Was this because she’d insulted and corrected Malfoy on the train?  Had she been so nasty she’d impressed a Death Eater?  Did they think she really was the person she’d pretended to be in the diary?  That she was a ‘good’ Black?  That she was like Bellatrix Lestrange?

                At that thought she scrambled across the floor and barely got the lid of the toilet up before she was vomiting.  Even when there was nothing else to come out she kept heaving, tears prickled her eyes, her nose closed up, making it hard to breathe.  Memories raced through her mind, every painful moment of sitting at that table.  Pretending she was just like Bellatrix Lestrange.  Losing control, being forced to do something that went against everything she was. 

                Tears were coursing freely down her face and a sob cut through her.  She slipped backwards, and wiped her face on her sleeves.  When she pulled back she stared down at her right arm.  Thin, opaque fabric smeared with snot and tears covered her it. 

                She idly began tracing the largest word, Mudblood.  She couldn’t see it, but she knew it was there, knew exactly what it looked like.  She knew where one side of the M went down farther than the other.  Or how the two O’s were smushed together, sharing one deep, bone revealing cut.  The scars had remained unchanging her entire life.  They’d grown with her.  Padfoot said it was because of the curse on the knife.

                She wanted to be angry at Padfoot for not throwing Narcissa Malfoy out, for allowing that woman to believe there was a chance.  But she couldn’t be.  Hermione loved her dad, she trusted him.  She knew he’d never force her to do anything.  She’d heard him, he’d said he didn’t think Malfoy was good for her.  He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.  He’d saved her, he’d taken her in, loved her - raised her as his own. 

                He’d learned how to braid just so he could help her keep her hair out of the way.  He’d taught her how to tie her shoes after she’d burst out crying - unable to understand why it was so easy for Ron and Harry to do it, while she struggled.  He’d patiently taught her how to use a broom, spending hours of his day, while Harry raced around them, shouting encouragements. 

                Padfoot had given her a home.

                He’d given her Harry.

                He wasn’t going to take that all away by giving her to Malfoy.

                She kept repeating that thought, over and over again.  Eventually her breathing calmed down and returned to normal.  She shakily stood up and went to the sink.

                She looked in the mirror and couldn’t help but wince.

                She looked a fright.  Tears and snot covered her face.  There was even what looked like vomit on her chin.  Her black hair was plastered to her head with sweat.  Her mouth tasted like she’d licked the toilet rather than vomited into it.

                If Narcissa Malfoy could see her now she’d think twice about a marriage.  Not that she seemed to care about looks, Hermione wasn’t much to look at on a good day.  But at least she was clean.  Maybe-

                A knock sounded on the bathroom door, cutting off her thoughts.

                She opened her mouth, but only a squeak came out.  She stopped, cleared her throat, and tried again.

                “Yes?”

                “Hermione?  Can I come in?”

                She felt some of the tension leave her at the sound of Harry’s voice. 

                Harry was here.

                She opened the bathroom door and her brother slipped inside.  He was sweaty and looked very wind-blown.  She assumed he’d been off flying at the Weasley’s, one of his favorite pastimes.

                He shut the door behind himself and then turned to her and pulled her into a hug.  He was a little shorter than her, but it still felt like he was the one enveloping her.  The tight knot in her stomach began slowly unwinding.  Harry was here.  Padfoot loved her.  Narcissa Malfoy wasn’t going to get her way.  Even if Padfoot was making some concessions. 

                She knew he had to be behind Mrs. Malfoy making up with Aunt Andy.  Now that she was calming down, she could think clearly.  He knew she would never consent to marry Malfoy.  And he would never force her.  But he was smart, he knew Narcissa Malfoy wouldn’t give up.  So he wanted to use it, make Aunt Andy happy.  Hermione knew the two of them had gotten along as children.  Before Hogwarts.  Before Uncle Ted. 

Before Voldemort.

                He was likely hoping to change Mrs. Malfoy’s mind as well.  Which meant Hermione was going to come into contact with Malfoy outside of school, at family events.  So everyone could see just how much they all hated each other.  How wrong a marriage was.

                She smiled, Padfoot was so smart sometimes.

                Sensing that she’d relaxed, Harry pulled back.  He looked at her, a lopsided smile on his face as he reached over for a tissue. 

                When he held it out she took it and began wiping her face off, “Thank you, Harry.”

                “You know you never have to thank me, ‘Mione.  I’m your brother and your friend.  You know I’ll always be here for you.  Like you’re there for me.”

                She shot him a fond look before dropping the tissue in the trash.

                He ran a hand through his hair, “Do you want to tell me what that was about?  I know it wasn’t a nightmare.”

                “Yeah, let me get cleaned up and then we’ll go for a walk and I’ll tell you.”

                Hermione could dimly hear Padfoot and Aunt Andy talking in the study when they walked past a few minutes later, but she didn’t stop to listen.  She’d find out soon enough what Padfoot had planned.  Though she was fairly sure she’d figured out most of it already.

                The day was a warm one.  The sun was shining down, basking the world in its golden glow, making darkness seem like an impossible thing.  She closed her eyes as they walked and tilted her head up, letting the sunlight wash her face, chasing away the last few traces of her tears.

                Just being outside, in the sun, with Harry at her side, made her feel free.  Nothing truly bad could happen in the daylight.  Ghosts and monsters only came out at night.

                “There you two are.  Hermione, are you alright?”

                She gave a start and opened her eyes, blinking.  Ron and Ginny were walking down the path towards them, their brooms over their shoulders. 

                “Harry ran off so quickly, we were worried,” Ginny said.

                She smiled at them, feeling pleased they looked so concerned.  Sometimes she forgot that she had more people than Harry and Padfoot.  Ron had been her friend almost as long as Harry had been her brother.  And Ginny was a wonderful person, a kindred spirit in more ways than one.  And not just because of their shared experiences with the diary. “I’m alright now, I just got some disturbing news.”

                “Want to talk about it?” Ginny asked.

                Hermione nodded.

                “How about we go sit by the stream then?  Luna’s likely there feeding the fish right now,” Ron said.

                That sounded like an excellent idea, so the four of them wound their way down the path, until they reached the turnoff for the Lovegoods and the small stream that twisted its way through the woods.  As they walked the two boys and Ginny began discussing Quidditch and if it was likely that Wood would host tryouts this year.  Both Ron and Ginny hoped that he would, since they wanted to try out, but Harry didn’t have much hope.  Wood thought they had a good team, and didn’t like rocking the boat.  Both Weasley siblings thought it was terribly unfair that Harry hadn’t needed to try out.  All he’d had to do was stop Malfoy from breaking Neville’s personal property, while instead breaking half a dozen school rules.

                Padfoot had been rather proud of Harry, though he’d tried to hide it by scolding him.  Hermione sometimes wondered just how much their dad had changed after he’d taken them in.  Some of the stories Uncle Remus or Aunt Andy shared showed a very different Sirius Black than the one she knew and loved.

                Hermione tuned out the Quidditch talk after a bit.  It wasn’t really her thing.  She just soaked in the peaceful English countryside, letting it wash away any lingering worries.  She’d tell her friends about Mrs. Malfoy’s plan.  Between them they should be able to convince her.  And, if it came down to it, they’d tell Malfoy.  She smiled as she pictured the look of horror that would appear on his face at the idea of marrying her.  He’d never actually called her a mudblood.  She thought it might be due to the fact that if he named her as one it would mean he was related to one.  But it might also be because he didn’t view her as one, since she had been raised as a witch.  She really didn’t know.

                She stopped in her tracks, a terrible, horrible idea appearing in her head.  Could she do something that terrible?  Would it be terrible?

                What if she went along with Mrs. Malfoy?  Paid attention to Malfoy, continued what she’d been doing on the train?  Bothering him, torturing him, bossing him around.  Giving him a taste of his own medicine.  He’d never agree to a marriage then.  He’d hate her.

                She frowned and started walking again.  The other three hadn’t even noticed that she’d stopped.  But what if he didn’t hate her?  What if he liked being treated like that?  She’d heard once that some people craved being ordered around.  She couldn’t understand it, but then, she didn’t really understand the point of Quidditch either.

                Maybe….

                Maybe if he did like that, then she would have to reject him, break his heart.  But wouldn’t that be worse?  Could she knowingly set out to break someone’s heart? 

                She shook her head, she was being ridiculous.  She was overthinking things.  How would she be treating Malfoy if she didn’t know about Narcissa Malfoy’s plans?  Maybe she should try for that.  Pretend she never got the information, and just wait and see. 

                Yes, that might be good.  She wouldn’t give away then that she’d been eavesdropping.  What was Ron always saying about chess?  Something about analyzing all of the possibilities and then planning accordingly.  That wasn’t really Hermione’s thing.  She preferred making a plan and sticking to it, no matter what.

                Maybe that’s why he always won at chess.

                “Hey, Luna!  How’re the fish?”

                Hermione pulled herself out of her thoughts as the boy in question called out to the blonde girl sitting on a boulder on the edge of the stream, a fishing rod in her hands, bare feet dangling in the water that slowly wove its way through the overhanging trees.

                “They’re very hungry today,” she gestured to an empty basket next to her, “they’ve eaten almost everything I brought.”

                “Probably because it’s been so dry this summer.  The stream is lower than normal,” Hermione said.

                Luna seemed to consider that while everyone found places to rest.  Hermione plopped herself under a shady maple tree.  She found it to be rather interesting that Ginny and Harry sat down next to each other on a log that jutted out into the stream.  They were rather close together, and there was a tinge of pink on Ginny’s cheeks every time Harry’s shoulder brushed against hers.

                Oh, she was going to tease him about that. 

                But then when Ginny bent over to take off her shoes and socks she started to lose her balance.  Harry reached out immediately.  One of his hands caught hers and the other grabbed her shoulders.  As soon as Ginny was safely settled again they broke apart, and Harry was beet red.

                On second thought, maybe she wouldn’t tease him. 

                At least, not yet.  She’d wait until she had some more ammunition.

                 Ron looked around and seemed to decide there were no good seats left.  He wandered over to the boulder where Luna was sitting and leaned against it, staring down at the water, a curious expression on his face. 

                “Do you see a gillypup?  Father said there were sightings a few counties over,” Luna asked.

                Ron shook his head, “No, I’m just thinking…”

                “Uh oh, we better watch out!” Ginny exclaimed.

                “Yeah, Ron, you know what happened the last time you were thinking,” Harry said.

                “Those poor, poor firsties.  I think you scarred them for life,” Hermione added, fighting a grin.

                Luna giggled, while Ron just made a loud, “Hmph!” but refused to rise to the bait.

                “I was just trying to think of a way for Luna to make a fish feeder, you know, like those bird feeders Mrs. Tonks has.  Then she would know they’d never go hungry.  Even when she’s at Hogwarts.”

                Hermione nibbled at her lip, “Let me do a bit of research.  There might be a way…”

                They sat there in silence, just enjoying the weather.  Hermione knew they were curious what her disturbing news was, but they weren’t going to push her.  She was grateful, her skin still crawled every time she thought of marrying Draco Malfoy.

                After a bit Luna pulled her line from the water, revealing a strange little contraption at the end of it.  It looked a bit like an upside down Christmas tree.  Ron took the rod and held it for her while she began decorating it with the last few pieces of food in her basket. 

                Personally, Hermione found it a little silly to feed fish in a wild stream, but she always put it in the same category as Quidditch or Gobstones.  Even the silliest things were entertaining sometimes.  Why, even she had been known to play a game of Exploding Snap every once in a while.  And there were worse hobbies than sitting by the water on a gorgeous summer day, feeding fish.

                Like bullying.

                She scowled.  Maybe she could use this opportunity to break Malfoy of his terrible hobbies.  Surely the Malfoys wouldn’t want their son to start being nice to people.  Especially muggleborns and blood traitors.

                Yes, that was a real possibility.  She could keep acting like she normally would, with the end goal of making Malfoy a decent human being.  He might not even be a bad person to be acquainted with in the future if she did that. 

                Though she would never, ever marry him.

                Not if he was the last man on Earth.

               Now, time to share what she had learned and deducted with the others. 

               It was going to be a long year.

XXX

                Sirius pinched the top of his nose and took a deep breath.  “So, let me get this straight.  You believe there is a horcrux here at Hogwarts.  You think he hid it here when he applied for a job.  But, you have no idea where it could be.”

                “That’s right.”

                “Albus, do you understand how bloody big this castle is?  It took us Marauder’s a full year to properly map it out.  And we’d already been almost everywhere in the castle by then!”

                “Really, Albus.  Isn’t there some way you can locate it through the wards?”

                Albus gave Remus Lupin a sad smile.  “I already tried using the wards.  They can’t detect anything.”  He held up a hand to stop whatever Remus had opened his mouth to say.  “That does not mean it isn’t here.  There are ways to conceal things, even from the wards.  Now, can either of you think of a place where he could hide a horcrux?”

                Remus grew very thoughtful, a small frown marring his forehead. 

                Sirius knew that look.  An idea was forming for his friend, he just needed time for it grow.  He pasted a thoughtful expression on his own face and fixed his eyes on one of the spinning, metal devices on the Headmaster’s desk.

                He really had no idea where You-Know-Who would hide a horcrux.  He’d only found the locket because of Kreacher.  And even that had been pure luck.  Complete, ridiculous luck.

                He had a sudden idea.

                “Albus, have you asked a house elf?”

                The Headmaster looked at him in disbelief.  “You really think Voldemort would use a house elf to hide the horcrux?  I know Kreacher helped you find one, but that was pure luck.”

                “No, he’s right Albus.  You asked us here because you said we know Hogwarts best.  But we don’t.  Not really.”

                “And we know we’re looking for something belonging to one of the Founders.  We know he has the Hufflepuff cup.  And while the Ravenclaw diadem is missing, I wouldn’t put it past that sneaky bastard to find it.  The sword of Gryffindor has been missing for almost as long as the diadem, but it’s said that only a true Gryffindor can find.  So, that one might be safe, but I wouldn’t count on it.  If we ask, they might have seen one of them,” Sirius said.

                Albus looked at the two of them for a moment, considering what they had said, weighing their arguments in his mind.  He nodded his head, “I do believe that’s a good idea.  And we certainly do not have enough ideas that we can be wasting the few good ones.  Floppy!”

                A little house elf with the most enormous ears Sirius had ever seen appeared.

                “Headmaster be wanting Floppy?” squeaked the elf.

                “Ah, yes, Floppy.  I was wondering if you, or any other house elf here, had seen one of these two things.”  Albus waved his wand and created illusions of the sword, cup and diadem.

                Sirius stared at the diadem in confusion.  He wondered just how Albus knew what that looked like.  The cup he had seen in a memory, but not the diadem.  And the sword was quite visible in a tapestry in the Gryffindor Common Room.

                Remus leaned over and whispered, “There’s a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw in the Ravenclaw Tower, she’s wearing the diadem in it.”

                 He looked at his friend in surprise, “And how do you know that?”

                Remus grinned wolfishly and gave him a wink, “Krissi Pratchett thought I was rather smart.  She wanted to show me her book collection.”

                Sirius let out a long whistle, “And you called _me_ a dirty dog!”

                A throat was very pointedly and purposefully cleared, causing the two men to look over at the Headmaster.  And for an instant Sirius felt like he was back in school.

                Albus was almost, but not quite, glaring at them over the top of his half-moon spectacles.  “Are you two quite done discussing past rule breaking in my presence?”

                When neither of them said anything Albus smiled, a twinkle reappearing in his gaze.

                “It seems that Floppy has seen the diadem somewhere in the school.  Something about a Come and Go Room.  He’s gone off in search of it.  When he brings it here we can destroy it.”

                “As soon as that’s done I need to leave.  We’re expected at the Malfoy’s at 3 o’clock sharp,” Sirius said.

                Albus’ eyebrows rose until they rested up near his hairline, “You are expected at the Malfoy’s?  Should I make sure the aurors are on call?”

                Remus let out a snort of laughter, “That might not be a bad idea.”

                “Hey!  I can behave like a gentleman when I want to!  In fact, I had Narcissa Malfoy over for tea just this last week.  No wands were drawn.  In fact, I’d say my mother would’ve found the entire conversation rather disappointing.”

                Albus leaned back in his chair, resting his hands upon his stomach.  “And why was Mrs. Malfoy having tea with you?  As far as I know, she and you have very different political beliefs.”

                “And marriage beliefs,” Sirius said.  “She is of the opinion that Hermione and her son would make a good match.  I refused.”

                “That does not explain the invite to her house.”

                “Oh, just wait.  He’s getting to that,” Remus put in, rolling his eyes at what he considered foolishness.

                “I just wanted Cissy and Andy to make up,” Sirius said defensively.  “Cissy isn’t all bad, she knows when love is more important.  I may have refused to arrange a marriage, but I did agree to accept it if that’s what the children wanted.”

                “Ah, so you agreed to have them come into contact more if Mrs. Malfoy made amends with her sister.”  There was a knowing twinkle in Albus’ eyes as he clarified this.

                “Yes, family is important.”

                “Too, true.  It does show just how much Mrs. Malfoy loves her son.  She is willing to do whatever is necessary to get a wife for Draco Malfoy that will, ultimately, make him a better person.”

                “But, the question is, Professor, does Draco Malfoy make Hermione a better person?”  Remus said quietly.

                “No,” Sirius snapped, “he doesn’t.”

                “Sirius, my boy, they are only thirteen.  Right now that may be true, but will it always be?”

                Sirius was spared from answering by the return of Floppy, holding a gorgeous diadem in his hands.  Albus thanked the house elf and then the three men took a little field trip outside. 

                It was time to have another little bonfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard chapter to name. Primarily because a great deal of it is in Hermione's head, and the rest is a bit of a breather, showing the interactions between Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Luna. If you're wondering why Luna is so close to the others, they all grew up together and studied together before Hogwarts. Luna's still odd, but not quite so much, or so it seems to the others. Almost a decade of friendship changes people and how they see each other. 
> 
> Next chapter - Draco's birthday :)


	7. Draco Malfoy's Birthday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Harry 'crash' Draco's birthday party. Causing much outrage and whispers among the young Slytherins.

               Hermione self-consciously tugged on her sleeves, making sure they sat right, as she followed Harry into a large sitting room.  She had to suppress a gasp at what she saw.  She didn’t think she’d ever been in a room so covered in history.  The paintings on the silk covered walls had to be hundreds of years old.  She almost didn’t want to touch the furniture, sure that the oils on her skin couldn’t be good for the ancient pieces.

                But they were nothing compared to the ceiling.  She tilted her head up and took in the gilded paint forming elegant designs.  And in the center of the ceiling, was a gorgeous painting of a golden-haired woman reading under a handsome oak tree.  A silver-haired man stood nearby, watching her.  The emotion on his face was so real.  As she watched he started to take a step towards the woman, but then paused, frozen in indecision. 

                She wanted to keep watching, find out if he said something.  If they had a happy ending.  But she was called back to reality by a rather cold, if outraged, voice calling her name.

                “Black!  Potter!  What the hell are you doing here?!?  I KNOW I didn’t invite you to my birthday party.”

                Hermione pulled her eyes away from the ceiling and focused on the short, angry blonde.  He was dressed in impeccably tailored robes, his hair as immaculate as always.  Sadly, his appearance was marred by the sneer carved under his cold, steely eyes.

                Hermione looked over at Harry, expecting to see him angry.  But he surprised her, there was a slightly bored expression on his face and she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes.  He really was going to go along with her plan. 

                He was amazing.

                “Of course you didn’t invite us, Malfoy.  Your mother did.”  Harry turned away from a sputtering Malfoy and grabbed two glasses of pumpkin juice off the sideboard.  Walking back, he handed one to Hermione.  She took it carefully, being sure not to spill any, while shooting Harry a grateful smile, thankful to have something to do with her hands.

                “Why would Mrs. Malfoy invite the likes of you?” Pansy Parkinson said, disgust and disbelief evident in her voice.

                “Why, Parkinson, don’t you know that Malfoy and I are family?  It’s only natural we get invited to each other’s parties.  In fact, we left my father, Sirius Black, in a pleasant conversation with your father and Mr. Malfoy about the corruption running rampant in the Ministry, ” Hermione said, before taking a delicate sip of the juice.

                Malfoy seemed to have recovered from his shock.  He crossed his arms and glared.  “You’ve never been invited before.”

                “Well, no.  But then your mother’s never gone out of her way to make amends before,” Harry stated plopping himself rather inelegantly on a very delicate and ancient looking chaise.

                Hermione wanted to be outraged at his treatment of such a priceless antique, but the indignation on Malfoy’s face was worth any destruction of ancient furniture.

                “POTTER!  Just what do you think you’re doing!?!?” Malfoy screamed, his face turning a gorgeous shade of purple as the rest of the Slytherins looked on with mixed expressions of horror and disbelief.

                “Why, I’m making myself at home.  When Hermione and I arrived your mother did tell us to make ourselves at home.  Since we’re all family.  Or at least you and Hermione are.  You do know the two of you are second cousins, right?”

                Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to find himself at a loss for words.  She assumed it was because he was at a rather pivotal crossroads.  Did he stay true to his hatred of her and Harry and thus go against his mother?  Or did he stay true to his mother and ignore his feud with the two of them?  She almost felt sorry for him, since she had gone through a rather similar dilemma just the week before. 

                Almost.

                But not quite. 

                She remembered too much how he’d tried to get Hagrid in trouble about the dragon their first year.  Or how he’d run off screaming in the Forbidden Forest, leaving Harry to fend for himself during detention.  Not to mention all the times he’d made nasty comments about her or other non-Slytherins.  Nope, she didn’t feel sorry for him at all.

                While Malfoy was deciding how to respond, and the rest of the Slytherins were holding their breath in anticipation of what could occur, she decided to find herself a seat.

                She found a rather comfortable armchair near the chaise.  It was situated in such a way that she could keep an eye on anyone trying to sneak up on Harry, while he could do the same for her.  Unlike him, she sat down very gracefully, crossing her legs at the ankles and angling to the side so she looked very ladylike.

                This seemed to annoy Parkinson to no end, judging by the expression on her pug-like face.

                Really, did they think just because she was raised by Sirius Black she’d have no manners?  Her Dad had impeccable manners, he just chose to ignore them all.  And he’d decided that she and Harry should also have the same option.  He was of the opinion that to properly break the rules one must first learn them.  Harry seemed to think along the same lines, though she preferred to follow them when they suited her.  And, honestly, weekly etiquette lessons with Padfoot and Aunt Andy hadn’t always been fun, but they had been educational. 

                She took a sip of her juice and tried to raise one eyebrow at Parkinson, but didn’t quite succeed.  She just didn’t have the muscle control.  She supposed she looked a little odd raising both eyebrows, but Parkinson could deal with a little oddness in her life.  It built character.

                And Merlin knew she didn’t have much of one.

                “This is my birthday and I would prefer to spend the day with people I actually like,” Malfoy finally said, drawing everyone’s attention back to him.

                “We aren’t stopping you,” Hermione stated.

                Malfoy’s jaw clenched, she could almost hear his teeth grinding from here.  She smiled at him.

                He stomped his foot and crossed his arms, scowling at her.

                Now this was getting to be too much, she had to bite the inside of her cheeks to stop from laughing.  She could see Harry, out of the corner of her eye, attempting to cover a snort of laughter with a cough.

                This only seemed to enrage Malfoy more.  Really, he needed to learn to control his temper.  It would get the better of him one day.

                He stormed over, stopping directly in front of her.

                “Leave.  Now.”

                She looked up at him.

                “Really, Malfoy.  We only just got here.  You really aren’t showcasing the Malfoy manners I hear so much about.”

                His eyes narrowed, “Manners are earned.  Only the right sort get to see ours.”

                “Oh, not this again, Malfoy.  Didn’t we have a conversation about the right sort during our first year?” Harry asked.

                Malfoy looked over his shoulder at Harry, “Shut up, Potter.  You wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t a Black family charity case.  You’re nothing but a worthless orphan.”

                Harry’s entire body tensed and his eyes narrowed, Hermione could tell that comment was a bit too much for him to ignore.  She quickly stood up, drawing their attention back to her.  Harry blowing up in anger wasn’t part of the plan.  At least not for today.  They didn’t want Mrs. Malfoy to stop making amends with Aunt Andy.  And that would happen if they got themselves thrown out.

                “Really, Malfoy.  You’re showing your ignorance.  While Harry may not have as much wealth as your family, he’s far from a charity case.  And didn’t we have a discussion about your Slytherin traits just a few weeks ago?  You’re still showing a decided lack of cunning.  Don’t you all agree?”

                She addressed her final question to the room at large.  Most of them looked away, unwilling to answer, but a couple were sporting small smirks.  Apparently Slytherin House wasn’t quite as unified as it liked to pretend.  Only Parkinson was looking just as angry and insulted as Malfoy.  Why wasn’t Narcissa Malfoy arranging a marriage between the two of them?  They were certainly on the same wavelength.

                “Black, will you just shut up?  I have to listen to you enough at Hogwarts.  I don’t need to do it in my own home.  At my own birthday party,” Malfoy snarled.

                She crossed her arms and stared him down, being careful not to let her sleeves slide up.  “No, Draco Malfoy, I will not shut up.  I was, as your cousin, invited here.  You just insulted my brother, after we were welcomed and told to make ourselves at home by your mother.  I have a right to defend myself and him.  And if you can’t see that than you’re even more hopeless than I thought.”

                “He’s not your brother.  He’s a bloody half-blood Potter.  You’re a Black.”

                “What does that have to do with it?”

                “I think, ‘Mione, that he’s stating I’m beneath you and thus can’t be your brother,” Harry said helpfully.  “I would like to say that he seems to be pointedly ignoring the fact that you’re a muggleborn.  But he wants to use my blood status against me.” He was still very tense, but was trying to look relaxed.  He wasn’t quite successful, but she was glad he was trying.

                “She’s not a muggleborn!  She’s a Black!” Malfoy snarled, whipping around to face Harry.

                Harry, with great force of will she noticed, slowly stood up.  She knew he had to be still burning with anger from that comment about his orphaned status.  The two boys were the same height and looked ready to spring on each other at any moment.

                “Malfoy, I don’t think you understand the definition of muggleborn.”

                “What, do you think I’m stupid, Potter?  A muggleborn is just a nicer word for a mudblood.  She’s not a mudblood.  She’s a Black, and at worst she’s a blood traitor.”  He sneered, “She was magically adopted by a pureblood, so that makes her one.  I know my family tree, stop acting like I don’t.”

                Hermione’s jaw dropped. 

                Malfoy had the most twisted sense of logic.  She didn’t quite understand how his brain worked.  And almost everyone else in the room seemed to be of the same opinion.  Crabbe and Goyle were watching with their usual dim, accepting expressions and Parkinson was nodding along with what Malfoy said.  But no one else was.

                “Uh, no, no it doesn’t,” Harry managed to get out after he picked his jaw up off the floor.

                Malfoy crossed his arms and tilted his head up in defiance, “Of course it does.”

                The room seemed to be waiting with baited breath as Hermione got control of her own shock and gave her own response.

                “Malfoy, the technical definition of a muggle born is someone born to two muggles.  Both of my parents were muggles.  Sirius Black did not give birth to me.  He adopted me.  Magically.  With permission from my birth mother.  That makes me a Black AND a muggleborn.  Or, as you so offensively put it, a mudblood.”

                Malfoy’s shoulders tensed and he turned just enough so he could keep an eye on both her and Harry.  “There is no way to be both a mudblood and a Black.  It’s impossible.”

                Anger rose inside of her, pushing out her shock and disbelief at his reasoning skills.  How could he be so dense?  His mother was an extremely intelligent, if misguided, woman and his father was no slouch in the mental department.  Though his political goals were just a ‘bit’ twisted.  Just what was wrong with Draco Malfoy?

                “You honestly believe that?” Harry asked.

                Malfoy drew himself up to his full height and tried to look down his nose at Harry.  It wasn’t quite successful as they were the exact same height.

                “Would I say it if I didn’t believe it?”

                Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but was beaten to the punch by a rather weedy boy known as Theodore Nott.

                “Yes.”

                Malfoy shot a glare over at his fellow Slytherin.  “Theo, you’re not helping.”

                Nott grinned, “Yes, I am.  I’m helping you dig that rather deep hole you seem determined to fall into.”

                Snickers erupted around the room and Hermione felt her lips twitch, especially after she got a good look at Parkinson’s face.  The poor girl looked like she’d bitten into a lemon.

                “Maybe I should’ve gotten you a dictionary for your birthday,” Hermione said, moving to go stand next to Harry.  Partly so they could support each other, but also so they were closer to the door.  She had a feeling this conversation was going to end very soon.  And when it finished they’d be much better off in the adults’ room.  “You seem to be failing to understand that you, Draco Malfoy, are related to me, Hermione Granger Black, a muggleborn.  And there’s no way you can twist the logic to change that fact.”

                The entire room could hear Malfoy’s teeth grinding.  For a moment she thought he was going to respond rather violently.  He had no wand visible, but his fists were clenched and he did have Crabbe and Goyle on his side.  The two mini-mountains had moved up to flank their blonde master.

                But Malfoy surprised her, showing a modicum of self-control she’d never witnessed before.

                “Fine,” he spat out, “you, Black, have done the impossible.  Enjoy the party.”  With that he turned on his heel and swept out of the room.  Crabbe and Goyle almost falling over themselves in their attempt to stay with him. 

                Parkinson gave a delicate little sniff, “I believe the air in here has become rather stale.  I’m going to the garden.” She followed Malfoy out of the room.

                About half the room left, but Hermione found herself rather startled at the number of people that stayed.  Most of them went back to talking in their own little groups, but Theodore Nott and a girl, Tracey Davis, wandered over and sat on the couch that was part of the sitting area that Hermione and Harry had claimed.  Harry and Hermione shared a glance and then sat back down.  Harry once again looking like an uncaring wastrel, while she made sure to sit like a proper lady.  Dora always said that once you picked a mask, you had to stick with it.  Part of her auror training.

                Nott grinned at them, “Are you two sure you’re in the right house at Hogwarts?”

                “Theo, of course they are.  Who else but a Gryffindor would be brave enough to confront a snake in its den?” Davis said, giving Harry a happy smile.

                “True, but they rather skillfully manipulated Draco.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him chased out of his own room before.  And I’ve known him since we were both in nappies.”

                “Who in the world says nappies?” Harry asked.

                Davis rolled her eyes, “Theo, obviously.  He’s a bit stuck in the past.  I blame his father.”

                Nott grinned and leaned back on the couch, getting comfortable. “I blame my father for everything.  Makes life easier that way.”

                No one had a response to that.  Hermione didn’t know enough about either of them to offer up her own comment.  All she knew was that Nott had lost his mother as a young child and that his father was a Death Eater.  Though he had claimed the Imperius, just like Lucius Malfoy.  As for Davis, she was a half-blood.  Both of her parents were wizarding folks, but her father had been a muggleborn.  One of the few to ever get into Slytherin. 

                “Is what you said earlier true?” Davis asked, curiosity on her face. 

                “Hermione, did we say anything that wasn’t true today?”  Harry asked.

                “No, Harry, we’ve been entirely truthful today.  I’m not quite sure how,” Hermione answered.

                “Hm, must be because the truth is just too good not to use.”

                “Yes, Padfoot always did say the best ammunition is coated in truths.  They’re so much harder to ignore and disprove than lies.”

                “Who’s Padfoot?” Nott asked.

                At the same time Davis said, “So Mrs. Malfoy is trying to repair the bridges burned by the previous generation.  Excuse me, I simply must go speak with Daphne.”  She stood up and walked over to another group of teenagers.

                “Padfoot is our dad, Sirius Black,” Hermione answered Nott.  Apparently Davis liked gossip - she filed that away for the future.  It might come in handy.

                The conversation with Nott didn’t really go anywhere after that.  He said something about some Quidditch team and the next thing she knew the two boys were discussing the strategy involved in league games.  Nott was convinced that the Chasers were more important, since the League winner was determined by point total, but Harry was the opposite opinion.  He said that a Seeker had to be good enough to know when to catch the snitch.  When he started giving a second by second replay of his thought process during a game with Hufflepuff last year she gave up and completely tuned them out. 

                They didn’t even notice when she stood up and got another glass of pumpkin juice.  As she took a sip she glanced around the room.  There was no one here she was particularly interested in talking to, so she wandered over to the window.

                She almost laughed at the sight in the garden.  Malfoy was storming around, waving his hands angrily and ranting, likely about her and Harry.  Every one that had followed him out of the room was also there, but only Parkinson seemed to be paying any attention to him. 

                Blaise Zabini said something and Malfoy whipped around to reply and almost tripped over his own feet.  Hermione had to suppress a giggle.  He actually looked a little cute when he was angry.

                She stiffened at that thought.  There was no way she had just considered Malfoy to be cute.  He-he was MALFOY.  Beloved nephew of a mass-murderer.  Spoiled son of a Death Eater.  A Slytherin Bully.

                She wasn’t trying to anger him to make him look cute.  She was trying to make one of two things occur.  Either he would get so angry at her he would retaliate and/or end up hating her so much he would never consent to a marriage.  Or she would make him see reason and his parents would freak out and decide she wasn’t ‘worthy’ enough for him.  Either way, she would never accept him.  So either outcome was fine with her.

That was it.

                His looks, cute or not, did not matter one bit. 

Besides, he was much too short.

XXX

                The rest of the summer passed rather pleasantly and, most importantly, uneventfully.  The Malfoy’s were sent an invitation for Harry’s birthday party, but only Mrs. Malfoy came.  She made excuses for her husband and son, but no one really believed them.  She seemed rather put out that Draco wasn’t with her.

                Hermione couldn’t really blame her.  But then, Mrs. Malfoy was going about this all wrong.  Not that there was really a right way to go about it.  But she could at least try.

                A week before school was to start Hermione flooed over to the Tonks’ house.  She was meeting Dora so the two of them could go do a little shopping in London.  Hermione wasn’t big on clothes or makeup, but Dora needed to do some research so she could effectively blend in.  And she’d promised Hermione they could visit the Southbank Book Market afterwards.  The majority of books there were on muggle topics, but Hermione had found several ancient tomes that held valuable information.

                “Aunt Andy?  Dora?” she called out when she emerged into the cheerful little kitchen.

                “Hermione?  I’m in the sitting room,” she heard Aunt Andy call out.

                Upon entering the tastefully decorated little room she found Aunt Dora sitting having a mid-morning cup of tea with none other than Narcissa Malfoy.  Judging by the happy, light atmosphere Padfoot’s plan of reconciliation was coming along nicely.  She couldn’t help but wonder though, what would happen if Voldemort did return, as Headmaster Dumbledore had suggested he would back during her first year.  Would Mrs. Malfoy stick with her husband, the Death Eater?  Or would she change sides?

                If she was a betting person, she’d put ten to one odds on the former.

                “Good morning, Aunt Andy, Mrs. Malfoy,” she said politely, giving Mrs. Malfoy a polite nod before going to hug her aunt.

                “Nymphadora had to run a report into the office.  She didn’t trust an owl.  If you want to have a seat I’ll fix you up a cup of tea while you wait.” 

                Hermione had no time to respond before Aunt Andy was bustling out of the room to fetch another cup.  Leaving her with no choice but to sit and smile politely at Mrs. Malfoy.

                “It’s nice to see you again, Miss Black.  Are you enjoying your summer?”

                “It’s nice to see you as well, Mrs. Malfoy.” And that was a bald-faced lie.  She had no desire what-so-ever to see this woman or her son again.  As far as she was concerned they were a necessary evil, nothing more.

                Aunt Andy returned at that moment and began fixing a cup of tea for Hermione, no sugar and just a drop of milk. 

                “Cissy and I were just discussing antiques.  Did you know she has the most gorgeous antique serving platter?  It was originally a silver shield, made back in the 8th century.”

                Hermione frowned at that, “Why would someone make a shield out of silver?  I would think it wouldn’t be very strong.”

                “It was meant to be used during a magical duel,” Mrs. Malfoy answered her.

                “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of duelists using shields.  Knives, yes, but not shields.  Do you know of a book that talks about it?”  She halfway doubted there was a book.  It was likely just a serving platter made to look like a shield and given an interesting, if fictional, history.

                “True, most duelists carried knives.  But there were a few that preferred a more defensive style.  I can’t think of a book, but I will take a look in the Malfoy library.  I’m sure there is one.  If I can I shall send it to you if you would like.”

                Hermione blinked at that, Mrs. Malfoy seemed almost desperate to earn her approval.  She really didn’t see how she was making this woman so happy.  All she’d ever done was insult her son and steal his inheritance.  Oh, maybe that was it?  But, no.  Even if she had never been adopted Padfoot would’ve accepted Aunt Andy back into the family, thus making Dora in line to inherit.  Maybe Mrs. Malfoy did honestly believe Hermione was the best thing for her son.

                And wasn’t that a scary thought?

                “That would be lovely, thank you,” she smiled politely and took a sip of her tea.

                “Cissy, maybe you can send a photo of it as well?  That would be a lovely gift for Hermione’s birthday.  She’s always interested in antiques.  Especially rare and unique items.” 

                Hermione felt herself turn a bit pink at her aunt’s words.  Honestly, she didn’t need her hobbies shared with this woman.  Having her appreciate antiques had to be a plus in Mrs. Malfoy’s book. 

                “And when is your birthday, Miss Black?”

                “My birthday is next month, on the nineteenth.  I’ll be turning fourteen.”

                That made her almost a year older than Draco Malfoy, maybe Mrs. Malfoy was of the old opinion that the woman had to be younger?  No, that was a silly thought.  She had to know that Hermione was older.  It had been well publicized that she’d been two years old when she’d been orphaned.

                “I shall be sure to mark it on my calendar.  A family member’s birthday must always be celebrated appropriately.”

                Hermione murmured a ‘Thank you’ and finished the last of her tea.  The conversation turned to talk of some old Black family heirlooms that Padfoot had rescued from 12 Grimmauld Place before selling it. 

                After about ten minutes Dora returned and Hermione quite happily made her escape. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write :) 
> 
> Also, an amazing thank you to everyone that has subscribed, kudoed, bookmarked, or - especially - reviewed this fic. Don't think I've ever had this big a response this early in a story before. Next chapter contains the most time jumping since Ch 2, but after that we'll be slowing down again. Basically, I need to get them old enough for the hormones to start kicking in. :)


	8. Teenage Rebellions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes, people get older, and things get a bit more complicated.

                Third year started with Malfoy visiting them, once again, in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

                Interestingly, he decided to leave as soon as Hermione asked how his mother was.  She might’ve mentioned having tea with her at their Aunt Andy’s house.  The rest of the train ride went very smoothly. 

                As did the first few weeks of school.  She enjoyed her new electives.  She’d wanted to take all of them, but Padfoot had forbidden it.  So she’d ended up taking Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies - very curious to learn more about her heritage.  She heard there was almost an incident over a hippogriff in the first Care of Magical Creatures Class, but Harry had been standing close and watching Malfoy. 

As soon as Malfoy had insulted the creature Harry had grabbed him and yanked him out of the way.  A moment later Hagrid had pulled the hippogriff away.  Malfoy had complained, threatening to tell his father, only to be interrupted by Nott laughing and pointing out that every witness there could prove Malfoy had insulted the hippogriff after being told not to.  He had quickly shut up after that and resorted to scowling and muttering about back-stabbing house mates.  Everyone except Parkinson ignored him.

On Hermione’s birthday she awoke to the normal assortment of candies and books from her friends and family.  One gift was rather unique though.  She received a book entitled ‘Ancient and Noble Dueling Practices’ from the Malfoys.  Accompanying it was a series of photographs depicting quite a few ancient and rare antiques.  The attached note stated:

_Miss Black,_

_We would like to offer you our best wishes upon this anniversary of your birth.  We apologize for failing to acknowledge all of your previous birthdays.  To make up for this please look at the enclosed photographs and select an object you would like.  Some we have acquired over the past decade, others I liberated from the vault I inherited upon Bellatrix Lestrange’s very deserved incarceration.  We have great faith that you will ensure that whatever item you so choose is well taken care of for future generations._

_Respectfully,_

_Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy_

                The handwriting was very feminine and elegant, obviously written entirely by Mrs. Malfoy.  Hermione wondered idly if Mr. Malfoy knew anything about the marriage plans.  Though he’d have to be an idiot not to realize something was going on after this past summer.  As for the extravagant gift, she could only assume that Mrs. Malfoy was so willing to part with a treasure because she was sure that her marriage plans would come through, thus bringing the item back to the family. 

                Every item was gorgeous and on the back of each photograph was its name, as well as a description.  She really liked the idea of asking for the shield, but the old Hufflepuff cup was also intriguing.  After some thinking she was still unable to decide, so she gathered up the photos and went to pay Uncle Remus a visit, as he was their current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

                He’d listened to her explanation, read the note, and then began flipping through the photos.  Upon reaching the cup he’d frozen, his eyes going wide and his hands starting to shake.

                “Uncle Remus, are you alright?”

                He mutely nodded, but didn’t look at her, his eyes remaining fixed on the picture.

                “Um, Uncle Remus, is something wrong with the cup?  I was thinking about asking for it, but I also like the-”

                He cut her off, “Ask for the cup.  You can’t keep it.  I can’t tell you why, but we’ll make it up to you.”

                She frowned at him, “What do you mean I can’t keep it?  It’s a gift.  Mrs. Malfoy may be attempting to attach strings to it, but I know that and refuse to let them sway me.”

                “No, Hermione, it’s not that.  I can’t explain now, but I can in a few years, when you’re older.  You just have to trust me.”

                His tired, scarred face was staring at her earnestly as he clutched the picture of the cup in his hand.  She wanted to give in and promise not to ask, but she had to know.  Even though she trusted him with her life, something told her knowing why was terribly important.

                “Uncle Remus, tell me.  I do trust you, but I won’t ask for the cup if you don’t tell me why I have to give it up.”

                “Hermione…”

                She crossed her arms and set her jaw, “Tell me.”

                He sighed, he knew just how stubborn she could be.  “Follow me.”

                He stood up and cast a patronus.  Hermione watched the wolf bound off before following him out of his office.  The two of them walked without speaking until they reached the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster’s office.  The photo was clenched quite tightly in his fist the entire time.

                At the top of the stairs he rapped sharply on the door, and almost instantly the door swung open of its own accord.  She could only assume the Headmaster had some method of identifying those that knocked.

Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, which was covered with parchment.  Hermione caught the words on a few before he tidied them up.  Something about a court case, a house elf, and murder.

                She couldn’t imagine how a house elf was involved in a murder, unless it was foiling one.  The poor creatures couldn’t even fathom hurting their masters.  Even when being tortured and abused.  It rather sickened her, and it was one of the things on her ever growing list to deal with.  But for now, she had other problems.  Tackling the house elf issue would have to wait until she had some political power.

                “Remus, Miss Black, what brings you to my office this afternoon?”

                Uncle Remus said nothing, merely handing the Headmaster the photograph.  Hermione hadn’t thought that anything could surprise the great Albus Dumbledore, but the expression on his face as he looked at the picture was indubitably one of surprise.

                “And how did you come by this most extraordinary photograph?”

                “It was offered to me as a gift, sir.” She pulled out the note and handed it over. 

                Professor Dumbledore’s lips twitched a bit as he read it.  From his response she assumed he knew about Narcissa Malfoy’s plans to marry her to Malfoy heir.  Why had Padfoot told the Headmaster, but not her?  Was he worried she would be upset?  Granted, she HAD been upset, but that was no reason to keep secrets.

                “A generous offer,” he stated, handing the note back to Hermione.  “Would you two be seated?  I assume there is more to be said?”

                “I asked that Hermione request the cup.  I also told her that we would be unable to let her keep it.  She demanded to know why,” Uncle Remus explained, taking a seat in one of the comfortable chairs positioned in front of the desk.

                Hermione joined him, being sure to arrange her robes so they wouldn’t wrinkle overly much.  She didn’t want to give Parkinson or Malfoy any ammunition if they encountered each other later. 

                “Miss Black, is there any way I could persuade you to accept a future explanation?  It is truly important.”

                “No, sir.  If you or Padfoot think it best I’m willing to accept a partial explanation, but I want something,” she tilted her head stared at the Headmaster, meeting his eyes and trying to convey just how serious she was.  She’d helped stop Voldemort with Harry their first year and stopped that diary from hurting Ginny.  She deserved some sort of explanation for them taking a gift away from her.

                Plus, it was always better to know things yourself.  The world was a dangerous place and lacking knowledge could get you killed.  Or imprisoned.  Such as what almost happened to Padfoot when everyone thought he was the secret keeper.

                Professor Dumbledore’s mouth quirked in a small smile as he stared at her, “I can see you do.  Well, I am alright with giving you an explanation if Sirius agrees.  Remus, I’m assuming you called him?”

                “Yes, he should be here soon.”

                And, as if summoned, a knock sounded on the door.  It swung open a second later to reveal Padfoot, dressed in his auror robes, his hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck.  Hermione smiled at the sight.  Her dad really was an amazing auror, but she didn’t get to see him in uniform very often. 

                “Good afternoon,” he said to Remus and Professor Dumbledore before turning to her and holding his arms open.  She jumped up and ran over to give him a hug. 

                Harry would be jealous when he learned she saw Padfoot.

                He held her tight for a moment then pulled back and looked her up and down, “Beautiful as always I see.  Now, what did you do this time?  Find another evil diary?  Saved your brother from his well-earned marauding tendencies?”

                She rolled her eyes at his comments.  As if she was beautiful or making her brother toe the line.  She usually helped him in his rule breaking if it was for a good cause, otherwise she just ignored it.

                “Actually, Sirius, she was offered a rather special cup, for a birthday present,” Remus answered for her.

                Padfoot’s eyebrows shot up, “Really?  And just who is offering it?”

                “Narcissa Malfoy,” Dumbledore answered.

                “That’s not quite as surprising as it should be, given the circumstances.  I don’t see why you insisted upon summoning me for this,” Sirius said.

                Dumbledore’s eyes began twinkling, “She’s refusing to ask for the cup if we don’t give her a reason why.”

                “Oh.”

                Padfoot looked back down at her, and she could see him weighing things in his mind.  He had to be alright with telling her something, otherwise he would’ve said no immediately.  It was just a question of how much.

                After a moment he seemed to come to a decision. 

                “Hermione, what I tell you, I don’t want you repeating to anyone.”

                “Not even Harry and Ron?”

                He thought for a moment.  “Yes, you can tell them, but try to wait until the information is necessary.”  He glanced up at Dumbledore, “It’s actually a good idea, to tell her this.  In case something happens.”

                “Sirius…”

                “Remus, you know nothing is certain.  It’s better to be prepared.”

                Uncle Remus closed his mouth at that.  Hermione wondered just what was so important about the cup.  But they’d already agreed to tell her, so she said nothing.

                “Miss Black,” Dumbledore said, drawing her attention to him. “Do you agree to keep this a secret, until it becomes necessary to share it?”

                She nodded, “Yes, sir.”

                “Alright, then here’s the deal,” Padfoot started, staring at her intently. “Back during your first year I found a locket.  Something was wrong with it, so I brought it to Albus.  We discovered it was dark object, created by Lord Voldemort.  He’d tied himself to it, so he couldn’t die.  We destroyed it, but later that same day you, Harry, and Ron had your little adventure with the Philosopher’s Stone.  Due to this we knew the locket couldn’t be the only item.  I contacted Remus and the three of us began doing research.  We’ve destroyed a ring, a diadem, the diary and the locket I mentioned.  You yourself gave us the diary that was also one.  Tom Riddle was Lord Voldemort’s birth name.  Using clues we’ve found we believe there are one or two more.  And that the cup you’ve been offered is one, possibly the last one.”

                “So, if the cup is the last one, Lord Voldemort will be unable to return and Harry will be safe?”

                Padfoot nodded, “Exactly.”

                She looked over at Professor Dumbledore, “Sir, may I borrow a quill and parchment?  I believe I have a letter to send.”

                He smiled at her and handed over the necessary materials.

                As she wrote she heard Padfoot whisper to Uncle Remus, “Isn’t she amazing?  I did a good job, didn’t I?”

                Uncle Remus’ response was so quiet she almost didn’t hear it over the sound of her quill scratching on the parchment.

                “You?  I give all the credit to Andy and myself.  If you’d had your way the only thing in her would’ve been pranks.”              

                “Lies!” Padfoot said rather loudly, causing her to look at him as Dumbledore chuckled.

                Uncle Remus just grinned, “Prove it.”

                Padfoot opened his mouth to answer, and then paused, a thoughtful expression appearing on his face.  After a moment he seemed to give up, unable to think of a specific instance.

                She giggled and went back to writing the letter.

XXX

                After receiving the cup she visited the Headmaster and he was kind enough to let her watch while he burned it.  She found the scream to be rather disturbing.  It made her determined to find out exactly what these objects were.  Even if the adults, in their infinite wisdom, did not want to tell her.  While they hoped the cup was the last one, she knew there was no guarantee.  And if Voldemort came back, Harry would be in danger.

                She couldn’t lose any more family.

                The weeks slipped by and before she knew it they were at Christmas.  She had a lovely holiday and didn’t even let the New Year’s Eve party at the Malfoys’ destroy her holiday cheer.  And, while it was hard keeping her polite, pureblood mask in place for several hours, annoying Malfoy almost made it worth it.  He still seemed unable to figure out why his mother kept throwing them together.  She assumed he’d figure it out in the next year or so. 

                The rest of the year passed without incident, though she noticed Malfoy seemed to spend a lot less time bullying others and a lot more time studying.  She supposed she was the reason for that.  Maybe you could train a Malfoy.  She wasn’t even that surprised when he came in second in their year, only beaten by her - though Ron and Harry were a bit flabbergasted.  The Ravenclaws were rather angry about that.  Apparently they thought they held the monopoly on brains.  Luna did a wonderful job reenacting the whining that went on in Ravenclaw Tower among the third years, much to everyone’s amusement.

                That summer Padfoot took them on a holiday to the French Riviera during the first week of July.  She was just so upset they missed Malfoy’s birthday party. 

Not. 

She heard from Aunt Andy that Mrs. Malfoy had been rather disappointed.  She even managed to get Malfoy to come to Harry’s party.  But she couldn’t make him participate.  He spent the entire party perched on a chair, arms crossed, a sneer etched into his face.  Every time Hermione looked at him he was staring resolutely straight ahead, ignoring the festivities.  But several times she felt eyes on her, piercing her. 

Padfoot got them tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, during which a group of Death Eaters began torturing the poor muggle campground owners.  Hermione was sure that Lucius Malfoy was among the participants, but he escaped, though Theodore Nott’s father was caught.  Along with a few others, due to the quick reaction time of Padfoot and a few fellow Ministry workers.

Hermione watched from the tree line with Harry and their friends as Alice Longbottom quite gleefully trussed up Macnair like a Christmas Goose. 

“Neville, your mum is awesome,” Ron whispered.

Neville grinned happily, “Isn’t she?”

Between the excitement at the World Cup and all the whispers about something special going on at Hogwarts, Hermione didn’t have much time to worry about Malfoy.  She wondered if the Death Eaters appearing meant that Voldemort hadn’t been destroyed and if he was coming back.

Or maybe he had been destroyed, and this was one last hurrah.  If so, the ones that got caught must be regretting it.

Padfoot seemed to have the same idea, he warned both her and Harry to be very careful that year and not get into any trouble. 

As soon as Dumbledore told them about the Triwizard Tournament Hermione disappeared to the library to do some research on both the tournament and the other two schools.  Satisfied that she knew what was coming, she settled into the year.

Their new DADA Professor, Alastor Moody, was rather good.  Though she’d had a panic attack after he’d put the Imperius on her.  She’d ended up excused from the rest of the day and spent it reading in the Infirmary.  When she looked back later, she was a little sad that she’d missed Harry fighting off the Imperius. He’d earned Gryffindor quite a number of points that day.

She was disappointed Uncle Remus hadn’t stayed for a second year, but he’d only signed a one year contract, mentioning something about a curse and not wanting to tempt trouble. 

She couldn’t really blame him after what had happened to Quirrell and Lockhart.  One dead, the other now in Azkaban after trying to obliviate Madam Pince when she brought some discrepancies in his books up to him.  Signing up for only a year was probably a good idea, though she couldn’t see Uncle Remus sticking Lord Voldemort on the back of his head or attacking fellow staff members.

Still, better safe than sorry.

Cedric Diggory was selected as the Hogwarts Champion and Hermione was very happy to cheer him on during the first task, where he came in with a solid second. 

In November, they heard about the Yule Ball.  This seemed to go to everybody’s heads and there wasn’t a sane person left in all of Gryffindor Tower over the age of twelve.  She spent many hours hiding in the library, until she inevitably got fed up with Krum and his giggling flock of fangirls.  Then she’d sequester herself in a deserted classroom, practicing spells and reading books.  Sometimes Neville, Harry and Ron would join her, other times Luna and Ginny would wander in, asking her questions about something or other.  Ginny usually wanted help with homework, while Luna tended to prefer book recommendations.  Hermione really couldn’t understand how Luna reached certain conclusions, but there was no arguing the fact that of everyone at Hogwarts, only she could really challenge Hermione when it came to academics - excepting certain Slytherins she preferred to ignore.

                One Saturday afternoon, after fleeing the library in annoyance, she spent a pleasant few hours debating growing techniques for the sopophorous plant with Neville.  Eventually though, he left to go send a letter to his mother, leaving Hermione in beautiful silence.

                A silence quickly destroyed by Draco Malfoy.

                “BLACK!”

                She looked up from her book as the door to her hidden sanctuary slammed open, banging loudly on the stone wall. 

                Malfoy stood in the doorway, his face flushed in anger.  His usually pristine robes were a bit rumpled and his hair was looking almost as windblown as Harry’s. 

                He stormed across the room and slammed a letter down in front of her.

                “Explain!”

                She glanced at the letter.  Most of it was what was usually found in a letter.  News about home and questions about school.  But it was the last paragraph that she assumed he was referring to.

                She scanned it quickly and then looked up at the furious boy in front of her.  She tried to raise one eyebrow, but only felt mildly successful.

                She really needed to work on that.

                “Your mother seems to be of the opinion that we go to the Yule Ball together.  I have done nothing to encourage her to think this, so I can only suppose it was your doing.”

                His jaw clenched and his scowl deepened.  “I did NOT do anything of the sort!  Besides, I already asked Pansy!”

                She shrugged, “Then what’s the problem?  You have no wish to go with me, and I have no wish to go with you.  Just write your mother and tell her that we have already procured dates, so there would be no point in asking me.”

                “We have procured dates?  And just whom are you going with?  Potter?” He threw his head back and let out a hard, cruel laugh. 

                She crossed her arms defensively, “And just what is wrong with me going with my brother?”

                “Nothing!  After all, who else would take you?”

                She stood up so fast her chair fell backwards.  Her wand was in her hand and shoved right under his nose.

                He held his hands up defensively and took a step backwards, his eyes focused on the tip of her wand.  “What?  I didn’t mean anything by it!  What boy would be brave enough to risk taking out the sister of the Boy-Who-Lived?”

                She eyed him carefully, she didn’t for one minute believe that was what he meant.  Still, calling him a liar would just cause more trouble than it was worth.  She took a deep breath and slipped her wand back in her sleeve.

                He sneered at her and lowered his hands. 

                “Besides, who would take a buck-toothed, know-it-all mudblood like you?”

                She didn’t even think, she rounded the desk and headed straight for him – her wand entirely forgotten.  She wanted the pleasure of wiping that sneer off with her own bare hands.  He caught one look at her face and ran, nearly tripping over his robes.  Tears burned at her eyes and her throat closed up, trapping a sob, as he disappeared out of the classroom. 

                How DARE he!

                Merlin castrate Draco Malfoy!

                She turned and shoved her desk, sending it flying across the room.  She didn’t even care about the library book that slid off, sliding across the floor until it banged into a wall.

                The sound the desk made as it hit the fallen chair and crashed to the floor made her blood sing. 

                Destruction.

                That was the answer.

                She shoved more desks, smiling as they banged and crashed into each other, tears pouring from her face. 

                She ended her tantrum by slamming the door closed, letting the bang ring through the room and wash over her soul.  Calming her, freeing her from the anger.

                Taking a deep breath she leaned against the wall and looked around the destroyed classroom – taking in the fallen desks, scattered parchment, and beautiful chaos.

                She smiled, looking over her work, half wishing Malfoy was lying, bleeding, amid all the destruction.

                That thought drew her up short.

                It scared her, just how much the thought of Draco Malfoy lying damaged among all the destruction made her feel pleased. 

Her magic sung at the thought of causing harm to another human being - of seeking retribution.

Padfoot had warned her of this.  Back when she was seven and had made Ron cry after he made a comment about her teeth.  He’d explained about family magic, and how it affected you.  Made you crave things that didn’t fit your personality.  How it made some things easier, but others harder.

He’d brought Harry in then, telling them both about their family magics and what came with them.  The Potters had always been strong in defense, always desiring to protect those they cared about.  The Blacks had always been about vengeance and purity.  Padfoot had tried to change the Black magic, and he had succeeded, to a point.  But he had still been raised a Black, and his life had shaped him.  He craved vengeance for those he had lost.  And she, to a degree, did also.

It was why she’d been able to learn so many hexes and their defenses so easily, while she’d struggled with Charms.  Being forced to practice simple things for hours on end, things that came so easily to Ron. 

But never once before had she felt the other effects.  She’d never before been so angry or hurt in her life.  Not when it couldn’t be tied back to a nightmare about that long ago night, when Padfoot adopted her.

                She tried to figure out why.  It wasn’t anything new for Malfoy to insult her.  He’d called her buck-toothed many times during their time at Hogwarts.  Usually it was accompanied by some comment about her lack of care for her appearance.  She’d also seen him mocking her attempts to answer questions enough times for it to cause nothing more than an eye roll.

                So it had to be the mudblood word.

                And that was when it hit her.

                He’d never, not once, called her a mudblood before.  He’d always treated her and Harry with a distant sort of respect, even while he insulted and attempted to humiliate them.  He’d never once tried to label them as beneath him.

                But now he had.

                She wanted to figure out just what he meant by that.  Had he finally realized just what his mother was trying to do?  Was he attempting to distance himself from her this way?

                Or had his opinion changed?  Had he always thought of them this way? 

                That thought made her heart hurt, and she wasn’t quite sure why.

                She slid down to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself, idly running her fingers over the raised scars under her robes.  

She didn’t have to look to know what they said.

                Mudblood.

                Filth.

                Dirt.

                Those three words kept circling in her mind, occasionally accompanied by the sneering face of Draco Malfoy.

                So caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t even notice the door beside her slowly open.

                She gasped when a face appeared in front of hers.  A sharp, sallow face with the kindest set of eyes she’d ever witnessed, sitting under a pair of bushy, black eyebrows.

                “Are you alright?” His voice was so deep and calming, his accent coating his words. 

                She’d never heard him speak before.

                She just stared at him, unable to do more than stare into his eyes.

                He pulled out his wand and gave a small wave, a crisp handkerchief appeared.  He took it and dabbed at her face, wiping the tears away.

                She sniffed and reached up to take it from him, a little embarrassed.  Their fingers brushed and her heart gave a lurch.  She felt her face go up in flames.

                “Th-thank you.” She dried the tears from her face and wiped her nose.  “I’m okay now.  You don’t have to stay.”

                “I vas looking for you.”

                She clenched the handkerchief and looked up at him in surprise.

                “You were?”

                “Yes.  I look for you in the library.  And try to find courage, but you did not stay.  So today I vent to find you.  I see the ferret boy and then found you – I followed the noise.”  He gestured at the disaster behind him.

                He smiled, transforming his face from its normal grumpy appearance to something much more friendly, and, perhaps, even handsome.

                “Courage?” she asked.  Somewhat stupidly in her opinion.

                He took a deep breath, “Vould you like to go to the ball?  Vith me?”

                She froze and stared at him in shock for half a moment, and then a smile burst across her face.

                “I would love to!”

                He smiled and she felt as if she was floating on air. 

                Take that Draco Malfoy, she thought, someone does want to go with me.  And he’s not my brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, huge time jump! Almost a year and a half in one chapter. And, yes, there will be bit of romance between Krum and Hermione in the next couple of chapters, but I'm sure ya'll realize that it won't last :)
> 
> Hope the title was self-explanatory. Let me know if it wasn't.
> 
> Enjoy!


	9. The Yule Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione prepares for the Yule Ball, attends the Yule Ball, and receives her first kiss.

                In the first week of December Ron visited Hermione in her hiding spot, looking rather nervous.  He kept running his hand through his hair and clearing his throat, but saying nothing.

                After a few minutes of this she rolled her eyes in annoyance and set down her quill.  “Alright, Ron, what’s got you so nervous?”

                He cleared his throat again and looked down, “Well, you see.  Harry and I got to talking and we realized we all need dates for the Yule Ball.  So he asked Ginny, just as friends of course.  I was gonna ask Luna, since she can’t go if someone doesn’t ask her, but I found her right after Neville asked her.  He figured I was gonna go with you.” He shrugged, “Dunno why he thought it.  But it seems like a good idea, you and me.  What with us being friends and all.  So, do you wanna go with me to the Ball?”

                She bit her lip and tried to think how to respond.  It wasn’t the best way to be asked, but then, Ron had never been very eloquent.  Part of his charm, she supposed.  Still, he was almost as much of a brother to her as Harry, so why did Neville think they would go together?  That needed to be added to her list.  All she needed were more marriage plans floating around out there.  Besides, everyone who knew Ron could tell he was sweet on Luna, even if all he ever did was help her make strange fish feeders and agree with her nargle comments.  It was more than most did.  And if she didn’t have a date she would go with Ron, just as friends, because it would be fun to hang out with him.  But the thing was, she did have a date.  She just hoped Ron would take it well.

                “Ron, I’m sorry, I already have a date.  Viktor Krum asked me last week.  Sorry I didn’t say anything, I still have trouble believing it happened.”

                Ron’s head jerked up so he could see her, just as his jaw dropped to the floor.  He stared at her for a moment.  A myriad number of emotions flying across his face.  She was half afraid he’d blow up at her in anger.  He’d obviously felt bad about asking her now, knowing she wasn’t his first choice and that she would know that. 

                “Hermione!  That’s wicked!  Do you think you could get his autograph for me?” he exclaimed, once he finally settled on how he felt.

                She rolled her eyes, “Honestly, Ron.  Are you ever going to grow up?”

                He grinned, “Not if I can help it!”

XXX

                On Christmas morning Hermione opened her gifts, pointedly ignoring her roommates squeals as they tore into their own presents.  Honestly.  Why did they have to room with their year-mates?  She’d much prefer sharing a room with Ginny over the gossip twins.  Ginny appreciated quiet and solitude, unlike some people.

                From Aunt Andy she’d received a set of earrings, charmed to stay on her ears until she removed them herself.  A wonderful things since she saw pierced ears as a form of body mutilation.  Not that she had anything against people that did it, she just never could.  Call it a hang-up.  Of course the earrings matched her dress robes perfectly.  Someone had been snooping.  Or bribing Dora to get information.  Really, an auror should be above such simple bribes as homemade biscuits and caramel.

                Mrs. Weasley sent her a sweater, like always, but this one was a gorgeous lavender, unlike the previous blue ones.  The change of color was much appreciated, but she was always happy to get a sweater, no matter the color.  She absently wondered if Ron’s was again maroon, or if he too had gotten a better color.  There was also a tin filled with homemade biscuits and fudge.

                She pulled out a biscuit and took a bite as she opened Luna’s gift.  It was a box of Honeydukes’ chocolate.  Each piece looked like a little magical animal, and they moved like them.  There was even what she could only assume to be a crumple horned snorkack.  As she nibbled on the biscuit she watched the Thestral spread its wings and shake its head, looking around to see what was going on. 

                Ginny gave her a little day planner for the next year, and Ron complimented her gift by giving Hermione a self-inking travel quill.  It could be stuck to any notebook and was only removable my pressing a painted circle on the shaft of the quill.  She stuck the quill on the cover of the planner and set them nearby, on top of her school bag.

                Harry had apparently wandered out into the muggle world and brought her back an assortment of muggle novels.  Most were non-fiction, historical or science based.  But there were a few fiction books that he’d thought looked interesting.  She set them aside to organize and find places for on her bookshelf later.

                Uncle Remus sent her a recently published tome from America.  It was written by a muggleborn in America - she refused to use the term no-Maj-born, she was English and she’d use proper words, thank you very much.  The book took many scientific ideas from muggles and spoke about how they could be applied to improve magic.  She was quite interested in reading it. 

                Padfoot sent her a lovely letter stating that she could name any five books she wanted and he’d owl order them for her.  Half her mind was already thinking about what books to order when she opened the gift from Mrs. Malfoy.

                Mrs. Malfoy had been sending her gifts ever since the summer after second year.  First had been the cup, then at Christmas she’d received a white gold necklace and bracelet set.  Which, incidentally, matched the earrings Aunt Andy had sent her this year.  Hermione had the odd feeling that Mrs. Malfoy had converted Aunt Andy to her side.  Quite a few things had changed since that shouting match she’d overheard on that long ago summer day.

                This year for her birthday she’d received a new school bag.  One that expanded to twice its visual size, allowing her to easily carry all of her books and school things.  That bag had planted an idea in her mind, but she wanted to wait until summer to begin work on it. If the bag doubled in space, and space was ultimately infinite, could she create a bag capable of holding an infinite amount of mass?  She really loved Uncle Remus for teaching them about science.  Applying it to magic created so many new possibilities.

                The gift from Mrs. Malfoy, was, surprisingly, a book.  She flipped it around to look at the cover.  It was blank, just a simple silver star upon a black leather background.  The spine contained nothing.  Carefully, a bit leery after the diary incident, she opened the cover.  Sitting there was a letter with Mrs. Malfoy’s soft, feminine writing upon it.  She unfolded it and began to read.

_Miss Black,_

_I would like to wish you a Happy Christmas.  Except for your fourteenth birthday gift, I have attempted to find new gifts, ones that I felt suited you and your needs and interests.  But for this Christmas I decided to take a step to the side.  This tome is an ancient one, it has been copied many times, but upon the death of the owner the copy always disappears._

_You are holding the original._

_Andromeda lost her copy upon her being burned off the family tree.  She received a copy magically upon Sirius reinstating her.  I still have mine, but was left the original upon the death of Sirius’ mother.  This book may only be held by female Blacks, through magic or marriage.  The original is typically held by the wife of the current Head of the Black House if the Head is a male.  Or by the Head if they be female.  Now that you are fifteen and a young woman I feel that you are ready for this tome.  If my cousin ever marries it is your decision as to whether to keep this tome or give it to his wife until you inherit.  If not, she will merely receive a copy._

_Contained within are a number of spells and potions to help a woman.  Many have been adapted and shared with the world at large.  We are not selfish.  But, still, many are not necessary for survival, so we hoard them and use them to set ourselves above others.  Each holder of the original tome is free to add more or share pieces with the world at large.  All I ask is that you consider all angles before releasing a spell or a potion.  Once released, it can never be made captive again._

_I believe that the men of the Black line hold a similar tome.  Within it lies such information as the ritual Sirius used to adopt you.  I’m sure he no longer held the book at that time, but he had seen it at one point.  I know for a fact that many old wizarding families contain similar books.  The Malfoy one I hold contains many of the same spells and potions as the tome I give to you.  I have shared others that I thought would help the Black family in the future, as was my right as the holder of two tomes._

_As you have been universally accepted as the heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black I have made the assumption that the adoption ritual is within many of the male tomes.  Rather amusing that while women control the magic of childbirth, men have chosen to control magical adoption.  If you ask, I’m sure Sirius would share the ritual with you, allowing you to enter it in the female tome.  The decision is yours._

_The tome offers many things.  There are spells to make your husband uninterested in you, as well as ones to increase his libido as age wears him down.  If you do not understand my meaning, speak to Andromeda, she will explain.  Many of the spells and potions are far more pleasant.  There’s a potion to calm unruly locks and another that removes stretch marks.  There are a few more potions that you may find interesting.  I personally endorse the one that makes your teeth better fit your jaw.  I used it myself when I was twelve and snuck in to look at my older sister’s tome.  As there is a rather significant event occurring tonight I saw fit to brew this potion for you.  I will understand if you choose to ignore it and either brew it yourself or not use it.  Just know that I have ears in many places, so I know how my son refers to you.  You may thank his behavior for why I have decided to gift you this tome before you are seventeen.  I’m sure you can agree that he needs a lesson in manners, sadly he is much like his father and myself.  He only learns the hard way._

_I know you are rather intelligent.  I’m sure you can see my purpose in speaking with you and gifting you things.  I am beginning to believe though, that Sirius was right.  Still, I refuse to give up hope, for sometimes hope is all we have.  Remember that.  I have a feeling that darkness awaits us all in the future.  I see us standing against this darkness, but only at great sacrifice.  I am prepared to sacrifice the beliefs of my childhood.  The prejudices that have sculpted my life.  In fact, I threw them out the window when I approached Sirius back in the summer of your thirteenth year.  I am also prepared to sacrifice myself for those I love._

_I see the same strength in you.  Perhaps that is why I put such words down on paper.  For if my worst nightmares are true, then I know that you, and mayhap your brother, will do the right thing.  For even in the darkest of nights, a star will shine._

_Happy Christmas_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

_P.S. I enclosed another potion, a cream.  I have marked the page in the tome.  I do not know if it will work, or if you will chose to use it.  I but give you the option._

                Hermione stared at the letter for a long time, rereading it several times.  She scowled at the line about teeth, but couldn’t quite dredge up any anger.  While the words weren’t entirely clear, it was quite obvious that Narcissa Malfoy was baring parts of her soul.  Sharing things she would never likely share again.

                The fact that no mention was made of Bellatrix Lestrange made Hermione pause.  It only took her a moment to realize why.  Narcissa made no mention of those that were no longer Blacks.  And Padfoot had taken great pleasure in burning her off the family tree before filing the proper forms to remove her permanently from the family.  She and Harry had later caught him having a bonfire in the yard, with the entire tapestry as the centerpiece.  He’d been cackling with such glee she’d almost gone to floo call Uncle Remus out of concern.

                Bellatrix no longer had a copy of this book, and she never would again.  By not mentioning her Narcissa was throwing her sister out, focusing on Andromeda, and looking to the future.  Quite the opposite of what she’d done all those years ago during Bellatrix’s trial.  It made Hermione wonder just what exactly Narcissa had seen in her after that encounter with Malfoy on the train. 

                It obviously wasn’t cruelty or sadism.  Maybe she wasn’t cut from the same cloth as her murderous sister.  Perhaps she truly loved her family most and when offered the chance to re-embrace one sister she was able to leave behind the rotten, poisonous one.

                Or, perhaps she was just a great liar.

                But that didn’t ring true in Hermione’s soul.  It didn’t seem right.  Something deeper was going on in Narcissa’s head.  Something she’d only hinted at, during the end of that odd letter.

                Still, it gave her much to think about.  Things she needed to think about later.  She glanced at the enchanted clock on the wall that served as everyone’s alarm clock on school days.  It was getting rather late.  She should go round up Ginny and go wish the boys a Happy Christmas.  She’d have to return soon enough to prepare for the ball.

                She glanced over at the final, unwrapped package that had to contain the two potions.  She would need to look up the cream, but she thought it would be alright to use the teeth fixing one.  She was getting rather tired of being called buck-toothed. 

XXX

                That afternoon, she declined a snowball fight with the others and instead returned to her room.  She wanted to spend some time looking through the tome.  She looked up the teeth fixing one first, entitled _Dente Motus_.  The name made her a bit nervous, but the description seemed safe enough.  As did all of the ingredients.  In fact it was so simple she wondered why no one else had ever figured it out.  Or maybe they had, and the purebloods kept it in their families, letting muggleborns think the only option was to shrink their teeth with a spell.  Something she’d never wanted to try, for fear of messing it up. 

                It was the other potion, the cream, which made her nervous.  She’d lost count of the number of creams, salves, and glamour spells they’d tried.  None of them had really done the job.  A few made the scars dimmer, but they were still there.

                Still there and entirely readable.  Taunting her.  Reminding her. 

                So it was with a great deal of skepticism that she opened the cream and looked at it.  It was an innocent looking white, making her feel sure that it wouldn’t work, it looked too pure and innocent to do what it said it did.  Looking at the tome she could see that it wasn’t quite complete.  She would need to add three drops of blood to the cream and mix it completely.  That also made her hesitate, blood use in magic was typically dark and rather fickle.  Under the ingredients there was even a small warning stating that regular use of the potion caused it to be less effective, as well as potentially harmful.

                She wasn’t quite sure what would be worse – finding it didn’t work at all, or finding that it did work.  The idea of hiding her scars, only to go back to seeing them every day almost made her throw the cream in the rubbish bin.  But, she didn’t.  Even if she didn’t try it tonight, she might try it in the future.  It was good to have options.

                Options brought choices and choices were what made you who you are.

                That’s what Uncle Remus always said.

                What he never said, but that she implicitly understood, was that others’ choices could also make you who you are.  After all, would she be the same person if Bellatrix had not attacked her birth family?  Or if her birth mother hadn’t asked Padfoot to adopt her?

                No, she wouldn’t.

                She set the two potions from Narcissa on the bathroom counter and set to work on her appearance.  There was a handy little spell in the tome, one she thought she’d heard Lavender Brown use a time or two, which calmed any frizz in her hair.  Making it much easier to put up.  She twisted it into an elegant bun with several loose tendrils, then set it with another spell.  To finish, she clipped a blue and gold butterfly into her hair.

                Once that was finished she picked up the _Dente Motus._ The potion was an odd, see through, blue green color.   When she uncapped it she was assaulted with the scent of mint, with an undercurrent of honey.  It was rather peculiar as the ingredients did not list any mint or honey.  Still, she followed the directions and took a swallow, swishing it around for two minutes and then spitting it into the sink.  Immediately she felt her mouth tingle, and a distant sort of grinding sound raced up her jaw, making her wince.  She squeezed her eyes shut at the sensation and pressed her hands over her ears, trying to lessen the resulting buzz.

                After a few moments, the sound disappeared, but her mouth still felt all sensitive and tingly.  She opened her eyes and looked in the mirror.  Leaning in, she smiled and then gasped.  Her two front teeth were much smaller, complimenting her other teeth, rather than towering over them.  And all of them were straight.  No longer was there that weird overlap on her bottom teeth, or that gap on the left side on the top.  Her teeth were also lightened, looking whiter than they normally did.

                She pulled back from the mirror and smiled again, tilting her head in different directions to see the effect.  A very smug sense of satisfaction rushed through her. 

                “What, Malfoy?  Are you and your little slimy Slytherins unable to use your favorite insult?  Oh, I’m so sorry!  I didn’t realize that my appearance was so important to you!  If you’d like, I could make your teeth look like mine did.  Just take a step closer.”

                She mimed punching herself in the mirror, pretending her reflection was really Draco Malfoy.  She giggled at her own silliness.  As she cleaned up the tooth repair potion she wondered what Viktor would think of her repaired smile.  Obviously her buck teeth hadn’t bothered him, or he wouldn’t have asked her out.  But she still hoped he liked the new look.

                She wandered back into her room to find it still empty, her roommates were off somewhere, but she knew they’d be back soon.  And she’d prefer to be ready before that.  So she didn’t have to fight them for counter space in the bathroom.  And she still had makeup to apply.

                With that in mind, she went back into her room and pulled the shimmery blue dress robes out of her wardrobe.  They were so soft and floaty, she had hated having to alter them to make the sleeves long enough to conceal her arms.  But she did not want to reveal her scars to the world at the Yule Ball.

                In fact she didn’t want to reveal them at all.

                She pulled on the robes and went back into the bathroom, using the mirror there to pull them into place, adjusting them to sit right on her shoulders.  Luckily her torso was unscarred, so she hadn’t needed to adjust the neckline.

                Thinking of her scars made her glance down at the innocent looking cream sitting next to the now empty potion bottle. 

                She didn’t think it would work, but she might as well try it.

                She opened her toiletries bag and pulled out a sewing needle.  A quick spell and it was sterilized.  She bit her lip and held her left hand over the cream.  A quick jab and it was done.  She squeezed, allowing the blood to swell to the surface - then she titled her hand and let three quick drops fall on the white cream.  She popped the abused finger into her mouth and ran back into her room, grabbing a glass stirrer from her potions kit before returning and mixing the blood into the cream.  It quickly changed color until it matched her skin tone perfectly.

                She pulled her finger out of her mouth and checked it - the bleeding had stopped.  Nervous, she carefully rolled up her left sleeve and tentatively grabbed a bit of the cream to rub on the ‘Mudblood’ scar on her left forearm. 

                The scar disappeared. 

                She stared at it, holding her breath, waiting for the curse to break free and show the scar.  Like it had on the last potion they had tried, when she was nine.  She almost passed out from lack of air before she accepted that it wasn’t going to happen.

                Her heart began racing.  She rolled up her other sleeve and grabbed some more of the cream.  She covered the word ‘Filth’. 

                Gone.

                Invisible.

                She couldn’t see it.

                She started hyperventilating, tears pricking her eyes as her hands began to shake.  She almost tore her dress robes as she raced to pull them off. 

                Somehow they didn’t tear though, and she let them pool on the floor, all of her focus on the little tub of cream.  She began rubbing more onto her arms and legs.  Covering every little raised white line that had ever taunted her.

                And, just for good measure, she covered the scar on the top of her foot from when she was eight and learning to climb trees barefoot with Luna and Ginny.

                Then she carefully moved the tub to the side, only the fact it was a cream and not a liquid stopped it form spilling everywhere, her hands were shaking so badly.  She pulled herself up to stand on the counter, grabbing the wall to hold herself up – so her entire body was visible in the bathroom mirror. 

                She sobbed.

                A great, heart wrenching, breath stealing sob. 

                It was quickly followed by a second one, catching in her throat and making her gasp for breath.  Her vision blurred and her nose clogged up, blood rushed in her ears as her entire being focused on the clean, smooth skin lying before her.

                It was overwhelming, seeing what her body would’ve looked like if Bellatrix Lestrange née Black hadn’t come calling on that Halloween night.

                Even through the tears pouring out she could tell that she looked as beautiful as Harry was always saying she was.  And, more than that, she looked normal. 

                She looked normal.

                She WAS normal.

                Even if it was only for tonight.

                The tome had said the potion stopped working with regular use - as your body became immune.  But, if she saved it for once or twice a year…

                And it would work for twenty-four hours or until she washed it off. 

                She carefully ran her hands over her smooth, clear skin. 

                She scrambled off the counter and grabbed a tissue to wipe her face, taking deep breaths to calm herself down and regain control.

                If it was only for tonight, she was going to make sure she made the most of it. 

                She had a dress robe to re-alter.

XXX

                The boys were sitting in the Common Room when she came down.  At first they didn’t notice her, they were too busy chatting with each other, but then something made them look up.  Ron’s jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out.  Harry’s response wasn’t quite so extreme, but then, he’d always hid his feelings better than Ron or her.

                “Blimey, Hermione.  Krum is one lucky bloke.” Ron got out after he found his tongue again.

                She smiled at them, “I used a Christmas present.”

                She gave a little twirl, “Well, Harry?”

                He stood up and came over to give her a delicate hug, “I’ve always said you were beautiful, ‘Mione.  But tonight you’ll put every witch in Hogwarts to shame.”

                “And every bloke will regret the fact he didn’t ask you,” Ron added.  Coming to join her and Harry. 

                She smiled, “That’s nice of you two.  I heard Ginny telling Chiye to hurry.  So your dates should be down soon.  I’m going to head down first.  Viktor said we can’t be late and I’m not sure how fast I’ll walk in these shoes.”  She gestured to the sparkling heels barely visible under the edge of her dress robes.  She couldn’t help but extend one foot and raise the hem to show it off, but her eyes weren’t on the shoes.  They were focused on the clear, perfect skin of her leg.  She had to take a deep breath to keep her composure and not mess up her makeup.

                After leaving the boys to wait for their dates she tried to leave the common room, but she found herself stopped several times by people wanting to offer her compliments.  Most were students too young to go to the Yule Ball, but a few were older, just waiting for their date to descend. 

                Eventually she emerged from behind the portrait and made her way slowly and carefully through the castle. 

                Every time she passed any sort of reflective surface she stopped to check herself.  Making sure that the scars were still hidden and that her hair was still perfect. 

                After what seemed like hours she reached the Entrance Hall.  There were quite a few students waiting there for their dates from different houses or schools.  Her eyes scanned the crowd as she descended the stairs, looking for Viktor, but she didn’t see him first.

                She saw Draco Malfoy.

                For a single heartbeat her eyes locked with his and her breath caught.  She felt herself sinking into a silver lake.  Shock swirled around her, mixed with something she couldn’t name.  She was drowning, sinking into the depths, losing herself.

                And then it was gone.

                As one they looked away, breaking contact.  Leaving her feeling oddly empty and rather confused.

                She took a deep breath and smiled, forcing the moment out of her brain and continuing her search for Viktor.  She wouldn’t allow thoughts of Malfoy to ruin her evening.  She found Viktor by a gargoyle on the east side of the hall.  He smiled as she walked up, appreciation and happiness lighting his features up.  Making him seem truly handsome. 

                “Hermione, you look beautiful,” he said, though he said her name as Hermy-own.  She couldn’t help but giggle at that.

                He looked confused at her giggle, “I do not think that is vorth a giggle.”

                She giggled harder, she couldn’t help it.  She didn’t think she’d ever had anyone mispronounce her name in just that way before.  And it was just so relaxing and normal to have her name mispronounced.  She couldn’t even explain why.  It just was.

                “Viktor, dear, vat did you do to your poor date?” The gorgeous Beauxbatons’ champion, Fleur Delacour asked.  She was eyeing him rather suspiciously.

                “I svear!  I did nothing!” He protested. 

                Hermione took a deep breath to calm the giggles and came to her date’s rescue.

                “He’s right, he did nothing except say my name wrong.  Viktor, it’s Her-my-oh-nee,” she corrected him.

                Fleur raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but turned away from them to focus on her date, who was approaching them all with an awestruck expression on his face.

                “Herm-own-ninny.”

                She giggled again, “Not quite, but it’s close enough.  And you look very dashing yourself.”  She looked him up and down.  He was in a well-fitted set of red dress robes, trimmed with fur.  He looked every inch the professional Quidditch player.

                And he’d chosen to go with her.  Over all the girls in the school that would do anything to be with him, he picked her.

                She could never remember later what the two of them spoke about as they waited for Professor McGonagall to line them up.  Her heart was singing and her face was hurting from smiling so much, but the she couldn’t even imagine losing the smile.  She was just too happy.

                She felt like she was floating as she took Viktor’s arm.  They were right behind Fleur and her date, but she barely even noticed them. 

                She certainly didn’t notice all the girls glaring at her as they walked past, though Ginny told her all about them later.  How there were accusations of love potions and glamours being whispered among the less civilized students. 

                But she heard all of that later.  At the time, all of her focus was on Viktor and how he made her feel all happy and light-headed.  During dinner she spent a great deal of time talking about her travels with Padfoot and Harry during their many summers.  When Fleur overheard her saying they went to France she joined in the conversation.  Leaving her date to stare at her worshipfully and fail to get half the food inside of his mouth.

                She was having such a wonderful time that before she knew it dinner was over, the tables were moved, and she was floating across the dance floor in Viktor’s arms.  She didn’t know for how long they danced, but eventually the Weird Sisters set down their instruments to take a break and everyone began leaving the dance floor in search of refreshment. 

                Viktor led her back to their table and then went to fetch them something cool to drink.  She was joined by Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang, but neither of them seemed to be interested in talking to her.  They were busy whispering to each other as they held hands and ignored everyone else in the room.  They really were an adorable couple.

                Viktor had barely returned and sat down when Parkinson strolled up – Malfoy on her arm.  Parkinson looked – Hermione hated to admit it – elegant in an iridescent set of golden dress robes.  And Malfoy…

                Well, she hadn’t been able to see anything but his face before.  But now she could see he was wearing an impeccably tailored set of navy blue dress robes.  Just a few shades darker than her own. 

                She absently wondered if Narcissa had made that happen, or if the color choice was pure happenstance.

                Parkinson sneered and looked Hermione up and down, “You must be exhausted after casting so many glamours on yourself.  What did it take, twenty?”

                Hermione clenched her fists and opened her mouth to make a retort, but was beaten by Viktor.

                “Vy do you say that?  She is alvys beautiful.  In fact, she is the most gorgeous girl here tonight.”

                Parkinson rolled her eyes, “Her? The most beautiful?  How do you ever catch a snitch if your eyesight is so bad?  Black is NOT the most beautiful girl here, far from it.”

                “Vy, my dear, you are so right!” A smooth, melodic voice cut in.  Hermione looked over to see Fleur Delacour glide up, her date on her arm.

                Parkinson looked utterly flabbergasted for a moment, “I am?”

                “Vy of course!  I am zee most beautiful girl here.  I can understand your error zo, since Miz Black iz a close zecond.”  Fleur shot Hermione a friendly smile as she spoke.  Hermione couldn’t help but feel gratitude for the part-veela girl.

                Parkinson sniffed and turned to Malfoy, “Draco, I don’t know what is going on here.  But I blame the Weasley twins.  That’s the only way anyone could think that Black was beautiful.”

                 Hermione expected Malfoy to make a snarky agreement, but was a little startled when, rather than reply, he simply grabbed Parkinson by the arm and pulled her away.  But not before casting her a rather peculiar look.

                “I think the ferret boy has had a shock,” Viktor stated, watching the two Slytherins disappear into the Entrance Hall.  Likely heading out to the gardens.

                “Ooo, iz zair a tale to tell?” Fleur asked, completely ignoring her date as he stared dumbly at her - a smile floating hazily on his features.

                “There is.  It involves family drama, teenage emotions, and too many prejudices to count.  I really don’t feel like spoiling the night with the telling of it.  Maybe at a later date.”

                Fleur looked extremely interested at that, “Well, if zair is a tale, I want to ‘ear it.  If not while I am here at ‘Ogwarts, then per’aps zis summer.  I am zinking of staying in England for a year.  Zee boys ‘ere are quite lovely.”  She shot a fond look over at her admiring date.

                Hermione smiled, she wasn’t quite sure if she liked the French girl, but she didn’t seem like a bad person.  “Then I shall send you an owl and ask you over for tea this summer.”

                “I would like zat.  Now, pardon us.  Zee night is getting no younger.”

                She nodded at them and then led her date through the crowded Great Hall and outside.  Hermione sat with Viktor, sipping her drink and talking about nothing in particular until the music started back up. 

                And then they were back on the dance floor.  She lost track of the number of songs, but eventually the music came to an end and she realized the night was over.  Viktor walked her up to Gryffindor Tower and when they were almost there she stopped him, not wanting to show him the exact location.  She didn’t think her house mates would approve.

                They were in a deserted corridor, the only light came from a torch flickering a ways down the hallway.

                “Thank you for a lovely evening,” she said, looking up at him.

                He smiled and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ears, “No, thank you for a vunderful night.” His hand moved until it was resting against her cheek – cradling her face.  His head moved closer, “May I kiss you?”

                Her eyes went wide and her breath was caught in her throat.  She couldn’t find enough air to answer, so she merely nodded. 

                He leaned closer and she closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of his lips brushing hers.

                It was lovely.  So sweet and everything she’d thought a first kiss would be - the few times she’d discussed it with Ginny and Luna.  Luna’s idea that it would be as soft as a fairy’s wings was an apt description.

                He drew back, his hand slipping down until it held hers, rather than cradling her cheek.

                “Vas that your first kiss?”

                She nodded, still at a loss for words.  An extremely rare occurrence.

                He smiled down at her, his eyes were filled with such a sweet fondness that she couldn’t look away.  She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone look at her quite that way before.

                “Hermione, vould you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?  I am told that is what you do here on dates.”

                Her heart swelled – he actually wanted to spend more time with her!  And on another date!  Not just friends!

                She managed to find her voice, but her words came out rather high-pitched and rushed.  “Yes, I would like that.”

                He grinned from ear to ear and leaned down to kiss her again. 

                The second kiss led to a third, which led to a fourth, which led to a – well, she wasn’t quite sure what number.  Her brain seemed to shut down entirely after the fourth one.  But, she knew it had eventually ended, because she’d felt like she was floating on air when she walked back to her room.

                The others were already asleep when she returned, she had no clue what time it was, nor did she care. 

The world was a wonderful, magical place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter. OMG. So painful to write. I hope you enjoy reading it. Because it gave me so many issues. Primarily with Hermione and her scars. I hope this answered any questions I was asked about her scars and such. As for Draco's reaction...next chapter is partly from his pov. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	10. Three Articles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some rather unexpected fallout occurs from the Yule Ball

                She was wrong. 

                The world was a terrible, horrible place.

                And it was all thanks to that nasty woman – Rita Skeeter.

                It was a few days after Christmas that the first article came out.  It was fairly innocuous.  Just giving details about the Triwizard Champions and their dates to the Yule Ball.  That it spent a little longer discussing Hermione and the fact that she was the foster sister of Harry Potter wasn’t that unusual.  The Daily Prophet loved to say anything they could about Harry, as Padfoot had kept him secluded from the press before Hogwarts. 

                But then two days later an article came out about Hagrid being a half-giant.  That had necessitated a visit to their old family friend and a great long conversation on just why Skeeter was a nasty no-nothing woman who spoke nothing but lies. 

And how they felt about Skeeter – most of those feelings were not too pleasant.

                Hermione then picked up that nasty article and proceeded to reread it – in her most ridiculous, posh pureblood voice.  All the while, interjecting her own thoughts and opinions in her own voice. 

                “-used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher – Honestly!  Mysterious influence?  Is she so lacking in the upper stories that she didn’t think to remember you were cleared of all charges after the discovery of the diary?  That you had been wrongfully expelled and thus have a right to carry a wand once more?”  She rolled her eyes and continued reading.

                Ron, Ginny and Harry snickered at the ‘upper stories’ comment.  Luna just smiled, while Hagrid watched with tears in his eyes.

                “An alarmingly-large and ferocious-looking man.” She looked Hagrid up and down.  “You are rather large, but I would not say alarmingly so.  And as for the ferociousness – Fang is more ferocious than you are Hagrid – no offence.  We’ve known you since before we could talk and I have never – not once – felt afraid of you.”

                The others nodded in agreement. 

                By the time she finished dissecting the article Hagrid was looking much more like his normal, cheerful self. 

Then the others began giving their own thoughts on the matter.  And in the middle of Luna going on about how Hagrid was the only teacher she knew of that reads the Quibbler – which of course made him a very intelligent and well-read adult – Professor Dumbledore showed up, a stack of letters in one hand and a box of what looked to be some sort of muggle sweet.

                He didn’t seem all that surprised to see them

                A few minutes later and Ron, Ginny and Harry had begun theatrically reading out the letters.  And there were dozens of them, all positive, and all from ex-students that remembered him with pleasure.

                Hagrid was openly crying by the time they finished, but there was a smile under his bushy beard and his eyes were sparkling with happiness.  They proceeded to say their goodbyes, giving Hagrid the biggest hugs they could, and then left the two adults to talk.

As they headed back up to the castle Hermione added one more thing to her ever growing list of questions – How did Rita Skeeter find out about Hagrid’s parentage?

                XXX

                It was a week into the new term that the third article was in the paper.  It was in the Sunday morning paper and Hermione was one of the last people to hear about it.  She’d been up late the night before, finishing the homework she’d neglected after spending all of Saturday with Viktor in Hogsmeade. 

                She finally crawled out of bed about eleven and headed on down to the Great Hall for food.  The silence that descended upon that large room when she entered was the first sign that something wasn’t quite right.  The whispers that quickly broke the silence were the second sign.

                Terribly confused, she made her way to the Gryffindor table and took an empty seat next to Harry and across from Ginny.

                “Why is everyone staring at me?” she hissed at Harry.

                He had just taken a rather large bite of a sandwich and so didn’t answer her.  Instead, he pulled a newspaper out of the bag at his feet and handed it to her.

                It must have been a slow news day for the Daily Prophet, because right there, on the front page was an article that made the blood drain from Hermione’s face.

**Black-Malfoy Merger?**

_Never before have two ancient and powerful families married in such a way that both sets of family magic were still active and capable of being passed on to any offspring._

_In 1583 Fractul Dawglen proposed the idea that two ancient families with strongly entrenched familial magic would destroy each other if they tried to merge.  This information ended the betrothal agreement between Glacier Selwyn and Ginerva Prewett in 1701 upon the death of Ginerva’s older brother – making her the only remaining heir to the family._

_This would later be contested by Quigly Ollivander in 1834 with the idea that the two familial magics would merge.  Creating a new familial magic, likely one even stronger than the two previous ones.  It should be pointed out that Q. Ollivander never put this theory to the test.  His wife gave up her ability to pass on her own family magic upon their marriage._

_This is important because Lucius Malfoy and his wife, Narcissa Malfoy née Black, have proposed a betrothal between their only son, Draco Malfoy, and the current heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.  The current heir is none other than Hermione Black, the magically adopted daughter of Sirius Black and foster sister of Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived._

_Now, no formal betrothal form has been filed as of this writing, but it is certainly only a matter of time.  Two years ago the two families mended broken bridges and began associating once again in the same circles.  This culminated in the Yule Ball that was held at Hogwarts this year._

_Draco Malfoy, being a dutiful son, did as his parents requested and asked Hermione Black to the event.  Seeing as they are nearly betrothed._

_But, as you know from reading my previous articles, that Hermione Black went with Viktor Krum.  Was this due to burgeoning teenage rebellion?  Is she, like so many teenagers before her, attempting to defy her family’s wishes?  Or is there something more?_

_Checking the records, one can see that Miss Black is the top of her year, with only one other student in the past century having higher marks than her, and even then only in certain subjects.  Does she subscribe to Dawglen’s theory?  Is she trying to protect her familial magic?  Magic she only gained from her magical adoption?  A magical adoption that is not found anywhere but ancient family tomes?  Does she, an adoptee, even understand the importance of familial magic?  Can she understand?_

_The situation is certainly unprecedented.  Never before has a magical adoptee been the heir to a family.  Especially to one with such a rich and ancient history.  Could this be a dangerous situation?  There is no knowing what spells and potions are held by the ancient Black Family._

_Whatever the case may be with Miss Black, it is certain that Mr. Draco Malfoy is fully on board with the merger.  Like a proper, dutiful son.  It was quite obvious that he had eyes for only Miss Black during the Yule Ball, even neglecting his own date._

_“Pansy Parkinson, his date, was very upset with him,” an anonymous Slytherin student confided.  “He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he even got a bit green when she was dancing with Krum.”_

_And that raises another question, outside of the familial magic.  Would the Malfoy Family still be following their family motto if this merger takes place?  It may be rather crass to ask, dear reader, but what, exactly, is the blood status of Hermione Granger Black?_

                Hermione’s hands were clenched so tightly on the newspaper by the time she finished reading the article.  She was shaking with rage.  Ignoring the hand Harry had put on her shoulder to comfort her.  She didn’t even notice the fact that he had started to hum, though Ginny had.

                “Where’s Malfoy?” She bit out between clenched teeth.  She didn’t see him sitting over at the Slytherin table.

                “I haven’t seen him,” Harry answered her.

                “No clue,” Ginny said.

                Ron hastily swallowed his own food and cleared his throat, “I heard he’s been hiding out somewhere in the castle.  On one of the higher floors.”

                Her eyes narrowed, “Right.” She stood up, “I’m going to go find him.”

                “Want us to come?” Harry asked.

                She shook her head, “No, I think he’ll be more receptive if it’s just me.”

                Ron snorted, “Malfoy?  Receptive?  Not bloody likely.”

                Hermione ignored him and wrapped a ham sandwich up in a napkin; then started to walk right back out of the hall.  She was almost at the end of the Gryffindor table when a thought occurred to her.

                She rounded the table and backtracked a bit until she was behind the Weasley twins.  They turned to look at her.

                “You two want to earn some money?”

                Their eyes lit up and she knew she had them, even if they quickly schooled their faces to look bored and disinterested.

                “Possibly, if you-“

                “-make it worth it.”

                She leaned down until only they could hear her, “Oh, I can make it worth it.  Follow me if you’re interested.”  When she pulled back they were eyeing her speculatively.  She didn’t wait for a response - simply spinning on her heel and leaving the Great Hall, ignoring all of the curious whispers that trailed behind her. 

                She had to wait less than a minute for the twins to follow her out.  She led them up the stairs to an empty classroom.  She shut the door and turned to face them, crossing her arms.

                “Alright, two things.  None of that twin-speak.  It stopped being amusing almost a decade ago and if I’m paying, you really don’t want to annoy me.”  Her eyes narrowed at them, “Or did you enjoy glowing in the dark?”

                It might not have been the smartest time to reveal that she was one of the ones behind that prank, but she needed some fast leverage.  She wanted to find Malfoy and figure out just what he had to do with this article and then do damage control.  And she needed to do it quickly.  Sleeping so late and having no one wake her was not helping things.  Fixing this would necessitate a letter to Padfoot and possibly a meeting.  The insinuation that she couldn’t understand familial magic could lead to some very dark things.  Including a forced sterilization under the old laws, unless she was sworn into a marriage or a betrothal where her magic was locked, unable to be passed on.  Standard procedure in old pureblood weddings.  But not something she wanted to do.  And that was her choice.  While the wizarding world was very gender equal – magic compensating for the fact that male bodies were typically stronger than female bodies – there were still some old prejudices floating around.  Mainly from when women were more likely to die in childbirth or interactions with muggles before the statute of secrecy.  Magic wasn’t a miracle worker after all, just a wonderful tool.

                She was going to KILL Rita Skeeter for putting this thought into people’s heads.

                Just the thought had her magic singing in happiness, imagining the pain it could cause on someone that had hurt a member of the Black family.  Skeeter was messing with the wrong witch.

                She focused her attention back on twins only to see them watching her with a mixture of awe and terror.  And that’s when she realized that she was letting her magic get away from her, it was trying to escape and act out.  The desks in the room were vibrating and her hair was stirring, as if a breeze was ruffling it.

                She took a deep breath and released it slowly.  Feeling her magic calm itself as she let air escape from her lungs.  If she wasn’t careful Skeeter would have more ammunition.

                “Well, do you agree?”

                “You were behind that potion two years ago?” One of the twins - she idly dubbed him Fred - asked.

                “I was behind the fact that it glowed.”

                The other, George she supposed, spoke, “We’d like to make that adaptation part of the pay.  There are possibilities there.”

                “That’s acceptable.”

                “Good, now what do you need?”  George asked.

                “I need whatever it is the two of you use to find people in the castle.”

                They were very good actors.  They looked extremely confused at what she had just said.  So she promptly crossed her arms and stared at them, dividing her time between each of them.  She did her best to emulate Mrs. Weasley, one of the only people on this planet that had a chance of putting fear into these two’s hearts. 

                She must’ve done a good job because the two of them began to squirm.  Like they had after Mrs. Weasley had found them attempting to insert gobstones into her blueberry pie.

                The one she named Fred was the one to break, “What makes you think we have something like that?”

                She ignored the question.  Did they honestly think she was stupid and hadn’t realized they had something like that after three and a half years at Hogwarts with them?  And almost half a decade of school before that?  She knew these two almost as well as she knew Ron and Ginny.  Despite her best efforts to the contrary.

                “I’m offering the adaptation to the color changing potion, eighty galleons, and my assistance in the creation of any magical product as long as it has no permanent effects.”

                Their eyes lit up and they turned away from her, to look at each other.  She sometimes wondered if they had an innate ability to use legilimency on each other.  It would certainly explain a lot of things.

                It took them a couple minutes of looking at each other and communicating silently to make up their mind, but they finally did. 

                “We shall agree-“

                “If you up the fee-“

                She glared at them, “Didn’t I say no twinspeak?  And now you’re doing rhymes, too?”

                “You can’t mess-“

                “With the classics.”

                She rolled her eyes, “Fine, I’ll help with two products.”

                “Three.”

                “Two and I’ll up it to ninety galleons.”

                “Deal.”

                She walked out of the classroom with a grubby piece of parchment in her pocket – one she was pretty sure the twins had deliberately kept from her.  They knew what name Sirius Black went by to his children.  And they were smart enough to realize that James Potter and Remus Lupin were two of the other names there.  But she’d deal with that later. 

                Right now she had a little ferret to find.

                Draco Malfoy was hiding in a deserted classroom on the sixth floor.  Not too far from her old hiding place before Christmas. 

                She should have realized that was a possible hiding place, since hiding so close to her own hiding spot was a good way to trick her.  She’d underestimated him.  If she wasn’t careful she’d underestimate him at an important moment.  And that could prove disastrous.

XXX

                Draco Malfoy, heir to the House of Malfoy, proud son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, was extremely conflicted.

                He’d gone to bed the night before sure in the fact that he could do anything.  That he was an unstoppable force.  As long as he kept a healthy distance between himself and the bane of his existence – Hermione Black.

                But now…

                He balled his hands into fists and slammed them down on the desk he’d been sitting at. 

                DAMN that woman!  Who did she think she was?  Saying such things?  Implying he actually WANTED to marry his own bloody cousin?  Yes, he was a dutiful son, but not THAT dutiful!

                True, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Black during the Yule Ball, but most of that was due to shock.  How had she changed her appearance so much?  And she’d even discarded her normally prudish robes!  And somehow scored a date with one of the most famous Quidditch players in the world.  Making her not only the envy of every academic at Hogwarts, but every beauty and fame chaser, too.

                Was there nothing she couldn’t do?

                He let out a mirthless chuckle at his own question.

                Probably not. 

                Hence her being the bane of his existence.  Especially since his mother had gotten it into her head that they belonged together.  He couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out until he got the letter about the Yule Ball.  Looking back, he knew that Black had to know about it.  She knew everything.  He’d been the only one in the dark.  Being laughed at. 

                He hated being laughed at.

                He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and rested his forehead on the desk – taking a deep breath.

                He knew lots of things about Black.  Like the fact her favorite spot was the library, she hated seeing people hurt or taken advantage of, and she was utterly ruthless when seeking justice or revenge.  Two things he sometimes wondered if she mixed up in her head.

                And that meant his days were numbered, because she’d likely kill him over what was printed in that bloody article – which was why he was currently hiding.

                There was no way she’d think to look for him in the empty classroom next to her own hiding spot.  So he hopefully had time to formulate a way to salvage the situation.  He knew that nasty woman was an illegal animagus.  Pansy had told him about helping with the Hagrid article. 

                His eyes narrowed.

                Pansy.

                She had to be the one that told Skeeter about him staring at Black at the Yule Ball.  She must still be upset he kept them apart, stopping Pansy from digging her own grave.  Honestly, did she think she could win a fight against Black?  And, if she did manage to win somehow than there was still Potter to contend with.  And the Weasleys.  They may be completely repulsive and uncouth, but there were a lot of them, and they weren’t exactly known for being wimps.  Oh, and he couldn’t forget about Loony Lovegood – possibly the scariest of them all.

                No, messing with Black too much was not a smart idea. 

                At least for now.

                Maybe in a few years, when his father gave him his own copy of the Malfoy Tome he’d have a chance.

                But even then he wouldn’t hold his breath, since she’d likely receive a copy of the Black Tome.  And though the Malfoys could be nasty, the Blacks had always been nastier.  And while Sirius Black had been the ‘white’ sheep of the Black family – according to his mother – he was the scariest auror in the British Isles.  And quite possibly all of Europe. 

                And Draco knew, from an overheard conversation between Potter and the Weasel that they had regular training sessions over the summer.  Learning all sorts of advanced shields and charms.  Spells specifically created to combat every spell and trick he learned from his father.

                It really wasn’t fair.

                But then, didn’t his father always say that life wasn’t fair?  You just had to make sure the odds fell in your favor. 

                He scowled down at the newspaper. 

                He was failing miserably at that.  And he really, really wanted to blame Black for that.  Or even Potter.  Hell, he’d even blame the Weasel.

                Blaming them was so much easier than blaming his so-called friend, Pansy.  Or even his mother.  He loved his mother.  She was an amazing woman and he’d do anything to make her happy – short of disobeying his father.  And as for Pansy…

                Well, needless to say he didn’t think she was truly his friend.  Not if she was willing to give away his secrets without even trying to blackmail him first.  That was terribly stupid.  He’d told her about his mother’s plans in confidence.  She had to know that there was no one else he would tell.  And he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that it was one of Black’s friends that spilled the beans.  The whole lot of them were as loyal as Hufflepuffs.  They were too noble to turn on a friend.

                Something Pansy clearly wasn’t.

                He would deal with her.

                But, first, he needed to solve this.  Because if Skeeter kept pushing than Black could end up with her family magic locked.  Or, he felt slightly queasy at the thought, completely sterilized.  He knew quite a few people that would be happy to see the Black family, or its magic, die out. 

                And, if that happened, he knew he wouldn’t survive until graduation. 

                He definitely needed to stop wasting time and figure out a plan.  Before Hermione Black figured out where he was.  He probably had a few hours.

XXX

                Narcissa made a fist of her trembling hand and carefully rapped it against the sturdy oak door.  The knock echoed down the marble corridor, causing several portraits to glance over at her in curiosity. 

                No one ever dared to enter Lucius Malfoy’s study.  His sanctum. 

                Not even his wife.

                But, today, she was not in the mood to play the dutiful wife.  Nor was she the loving mother she spent most of the time displaying to the world.  No, today she was the vengeful Slytherin who had once ruled the House of Snakes with an iron fist.  The one who had dared to break the old rules and forbid the torture of younger students – just because they lacked the knowledge yet to defend themselves.  She’d even personally shown a seventh year boy exactly why forcing his attentions on a girl was a bad idea.  Even if she’d only been a fifth year at the time.

                That was what had caught Lucius’ attention.  And caused him to spend three years pursuing her. 

                Power.

                It was all the Malfoys seemed to understand.

                True, she wasn’t powerful enough to completely satisfy her husband.  She’d learned that too late.  But that didn’t stop her from loving him.

                And it was certainly not going to stop her from reminding him right now just exactly who was the more powerful one in their relationship.

                She’d spent the last year and a half laying the groundwork for a relationship between her son and niece.  She’d had to find ways to push them together despite their hatred.  She’d even finally gotten her son to realize what was happening, though she’d had to be painfully overt.  He’d reacted exactly the way she had expected him to.  Though his use of the word mudblood was not desired, she thought she could deal with it.  She’d been quite happy to hear from Severus that Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off of the future scion of House Black all night.  And that said scion had been pointedly ignoring him. 

                She wasn’t a fool.  She knew Sirius was right and that her son wasn’t good enough for Hermione Black.  But she also knew that he COULD be.  If given time.  And the right circumstances.  She couldn’t let him become his father.

                And now that terribly nasty woman was trying to ruin it all.

                And destroy the Black Family while she was at it.

                The door in front of her swung open and Narcissa stepped inside – ignoring the surprised look on her husband’s face.  

                “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, my dear?”

                She stepped inside and gently closed the door, letting the click of the lock echo throughout the cavernous room.  The soft rugs and leather-bound books doing little to soak up the sound. 

                She locked eyes with her husband and strolled across the room, keeping her face calm.  But he knew her too well.  She could see the realization in his eyes that something wasn’t right.

                “Love?” he asked.

                In reply she dropped the paper in front of him and crossed her arms, tapping her manicured fingers against her velvet covered forearms. 

                He looked down at the paper for a moment, and then looked up at her in confusion.

                “I read the paper when I broke my fast this morning.  I don’t see how this article truly pertains to us.  There is no truth to it and, besides, Draco is presented in a rather pleasing manner.

                She arched one delicate eyebrow and looked down her nose at him.  He almost squirmed in his seat like an errant school boy.

                “I see.”

                “Now, Love, I know you’ve been mending bridges, but I told you, it will never work.  I’ve seen the two interact, there is no potential relationship there.  Nor will there be, not with the way the world is.  So what does it matter if drivel such as this is printed?”

                Anger coursed through her, even stronger than before.  She wanted to smack her husband.  Did he not understand the beauty of a true plan?  Didn’t he comprehend that nothing was impossible with the right people pulling the strings?  Couldn’t he grasp the fact that if the world wouldn’t allow it, you changed the world?

                Of course not.  He’d thought slipping a cursed diary into a little girl’s cauldron was the epitome of planning.  He’d been terribly disappointed when nothing bad had happened at Hogwarts.

                If only he’d read his son’s letters.  Then he’d have heard of that little encounter Draco had with Hermione Black’s elbow, Dumbledore, and a small black book.

                But, no, he was too ‘busy’ to bother reading every letter. 

                And now he was too disinterested to do anything about this article.

                It was time to remind him just why he’d been attracted to her in the first place.

                She uncrossed her arms and leaned forwards, resting her hands on his desk and making sure to give him a good view of her cleavage before she forced him to meet her eyes.

                She saw a sliver a fear in them mixed with some confusion, but, even more so, she saw lust and love.  Two of the most powerful emotions.  She hadn’t been powerful enough to stop her husband from stupidly following the Dark Lord.  But his love for her, as well as his lust, gave her an edge the Dark Lord would never have.  One he could never even comprehend.  And he wasn’t here to combat it with the physical presence of his own power. 

                Lucius gulped as his eyes flipped down to her chest and then back up.

                He knew he was about to get a lesson, and it had been a long time since she’d given him one of those.

                She smirked, “Now, love, I don’t think you quite understand…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohmygod. I have never had so many reviews on a single chapter here on Ao3 as I did last chapter. Nor have I have had a story with so many subscriptions. Ya'll are amazing. I hope I can continue to create a story that ya'll want to read. So, no real interaction between Draco and Hermione this chapter, but they have a nice long scene in the next one. Was going to put it in here, but the chapter probably would've been longer than the last one, and that pushed my limits on how long I think a chapter should be. Though ya'll aren't likely complaining, lol.
> 
> Hope you liked the Narcissa scene :)


	11. Interesting Implications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione locates Draco. Narcissa continues to work on saving her plans for the future.

             Hermione stopped outside of the classroom where Draco Malfoy was hiding and took a deep breath.  Yes, she was angry, and a lot of that was directed at Malfoy.  She’d been angry at him for months, something she knew wasn’t particularly healthy, but you couldn’t always reason with your emotions. 

             Especially when a Malfoy was involved.

             She knew that despite the fact that he was hiding, he couldn’t be the one behind the article.  And while he and his family hadn’t been attacked like she had, they hadn't been painted in an entirely positive light.  And the Malfoys would never willingly put themselves in the paper unless it was entirely positive.

             But that didn’t mean he had nothing to do with it.  She was positive Skeeter had found out about it through him or one of his fellow Slytherins.  Her friends would never betray her.  Besides, they’d known for years about Narcissa's plans.  Malfoy had only figured it out a couple months ago.

             And just what had Skeeter meant about him being unable to keep his eyes off of her?  There was no way Draco Malfoy had spent the evening watching her, not unless his mother somehow spiked him with love potion.

             And that didn’t quite seem like Narcissa’s style.

             She was more likely to lead the two of them in circles until they lost themselves so thoroughly that they actually believed what she wanted them to believe.  Something she was sure Malfoy would fall for, but Hermione wouldn’t.

             Or at least she didn’t think she would.  It would be rather stupid to underestimate Narcissa Malfoy. After all, she had managed to somehow get Aunt Andy to forgive her - a feat worthy of an Order of Merlin.  And something rather at odds with the world's view of Narcissa Malfoy. 

             But this wasn't about Narcissa and her plans.  Not really.  This was about finding out who told Skeeter, how Skeeter was in the castle in the first place - everyone knew Dumbledore forbid all press entry except during actual organized events - and doing damage control.  

             Because she was sure Skeeter was even now discovering new, even more lurid details to sell papers with.

             And that meant she had to open this door and deal with Malfoy - without killing him.  She straightened up and took a deep breath; girding herself for the encounter.

             As ready as she would ever be she grasped the ancient iron doorknob and turned it.  

             She found Malfoy sitting at an old, beat-up wooden desk.  His head was in his hands and he looked rather lost.  She'd never seen such a vulnerable expression on him before.  He was always smirking or sneering.  Occasionally she or Harry got him to show anger, but it was always the anger of a young child - red-faced and petulant - no true substance behind it.

             The house elves kept the door hinges well-greased, he didn't even notice that he was no longer alone.  

             Padfoot would eat him for lunch in a summer training session.

             “Malfoy, how did she learn about your mother's plans?”

             His head snapped up at her words.  For a single heartbeat their eyes met and she felt like she could see into his very soul.

             She thought he looked terrified.  

             But that couldn't be right.

             Malfoys were scared of nothing.  They were too proud to see their own mistakes and weaknesses.

             But then the moment was gone.  A wall fell into place over his eyes.  Blocking her out, unless she wanted to use the legillimancy she'd only ever read about.

             He stood up, his face returning to its normal sneer.  

             She crossed her arms, making sure her right hand was resting on her wand under her sleeve.

             Always wearing long sleeves did have some advantages.

             “I didn't talk to Skeeter.”

             “Then how did she find out?  And don't you dare say it was one of my friends.  They wouldn't do this.”

             “Are you sure?”

             “Of course I'm sure!”

             “Your dad and his friends were sure about Pettigrew, too.”

             She felt her calm, ladylike mask start to slip at his mention of Padfoot and Pettigrew.  She knew the betrayal of a friend had hurt Padfoot deeply, especially as it had led to the death of another friend.  The level of that betrayal was nowhere near what was happening now with the article.  If her dad's enemies used the article they could make her life miserable for a while, possibly even for forever.  But they couldn't kill her or those she loved.

             “Pettigrew was always a sniveling rat!  Following the power.  My friends aren't like that!  They aren't going to betray me and end up in Azkaban!  Besides this isn't about that.”

             He rolled his eyes at her, and chose to ignore her last sentence, “I bet if I went back time your dad would say the same thing you just did.  No one ever expects a betrayal. Honestly, you Gryffindors are too trusting.”

             “We may be trusting, but at least we learn!  We don't keep following a system of beliefs that's slowly killing us and our chance for a future!”

             “What's that supposed to mean?”

             “You and your family's belief in blood purity!  As if continually marrying your cousins was a good thing!”

             He looked at her like she was insane, “What does blood purity have to do with cousins?”

             “What does it have to do with it?  Everything!  Honestly!  Didn't you learn ANYTHING before you came to Hogwarts?”

             “Of course I did!  I had excellent tutors in all subjects!  I even know you're named after a character in that famous muggle play – The Winter’s Tale.  So don't even try saying I wasn't taught anything non-magical.”

             That made her pause.  Malfoy had read Shakespeare? Had he really studied muggle fiction?

             He snickered as he looked at her surprised face and leaned back against the scarred wooden desk, casually crossing his arms.

             “Did you lose your train of thought Black? Didn't expect me to study anything muggle?  Did you know that before the Statute of Secrecy we Malfoys were heavily involved in muggle politics?  Muggle rulers hung on our every word. They trusted us.  And we manipulated them, like proper Slytherins.”

             “And now you are manipulated.”

             He jerked upright, laughter gone from his face.  

             “What do you mean by that?”

             “What do I mean?  Honestly.  Did we get so far off topic that you forgot why I hunted you down?  The fact that someone got you to tell them your mother's plans?  And then they told that nasty Skeeter woman?  And now you're hiding in an empty classroom.  I just spent a good chunk of my yearly allowance and who knows how many hours of work to find you.  And it wasn't so we could fight, fun as that is.”

             His lips twitched, but he stayed as rigid as before.  Tension evident in every part of his body.  She almost regretted bringing them back on topic.  As angry as he made her, she'd enjoyed arguing with him.  Maybe it was because he actually seemed to learn something from their arguments.  Or maybe it was because it was fun making him lose his composure.  

             When he stomped his foot his hair moved a bit.  So if she got him angry enough he began to not look so untouchable.

             Because he wasn't untouchable.  

             If he ever took his bullying up the next stage.  Became like his aunt.  She would prove just how not untouchable he was.

             “I didn't tell her and no one manipulated me.  I pissed Pansy off and she betrayed my trust.  She also wants revenge on you.  She hates your guts.”

             “You told Pansy about Narcissa's plans?”  As soon as she spoke she realized her slip.  Something about that letter at Christmas had changed how she thought of Narcissa Malfoy.

             Luckily he didn't notice how she referred to his mother.

             “Of course I told Pansy!  She's my friend!”

             “Obviously not.  Friends don’t betray each other.”

             “Shut it, Black.”

             “I won't!  Not after what you just said about my dad and his friends!  Not after what your 'friend' just did!”

             She felt her IQ begin to drop as anger coursed through her veins.  That was the only reason she could think of later to explain why she made the gesture she did.

             He looked at her with shock and disgust.  “Seriously?  We're arguing about the betrayal of friends and the possible implications of that article and you used air quotes!?!?  Just how immature are you?”

             “And you stomping your foot isn't immature?”

             “I haven't stomped my foot!  You're the only immature one here!”

             “You haven't - but you will.  You always do.”

             “No, I-“

             He froze, as he suddenly realized he had one leg raised and was seconds from stomping his foot.  His face was awash with such shock and incredulity that she lost it.

             All her anger slipped away and she burst out laughing.  

             He just looked so ridiculous with his corduroy clad leg bent, one expensive leather shoe hovering in mid-air.  One of his cashmere covered arms was raised, his hand in a fist, ready to emphasize the upcoming stomp.  His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were wide with shock and incredulity at himself.

             She laughed.  She laughed so hard she had trouble standing and fell against a nearby desk.  Propping herself up with one hand to stop from falling completely.

             She laughed harder as he smoothed his face of emotion and slowly put his foot down, while lowering his arm.  He then reached down and adjusted his trouser leg, so it sat properly on top of his shoe.

             Once again sure that he looked presentable he looked up at her and spoke.

             "I did not stomp my foot."

             She took a deep breath and tried to regain control of her laughter.  "No, but-" a chuckle escaped her, "you were this close." She held up her hand and showed just how close he had been.

             He scowled, but ignored her reply.

             "Now, how about we get back to why you really came here?  Once you are finished cackling like a mad hyena."

             It was hard, but she managed to ignore the insult.  He was actually correct, in a way, they did need to deal with why she came here.

             "So, you told Parkinson, and she told Skeeter.  Do you know how she told Skeeter?  Between this article and the one on Hagrid I'm sure Skeeter was in the castle - despite Dumbledore forbidding her entrance."

             He crossed his arms, "I have no idea how Skeeter got in or how Pansy talked to her."

             She opened her mouth to ask a question, but he continued speaking.

             "But, I'm willing to find out."  He scowled, "I don't take betrayal lightly.  No matter her reasons.  I told her my mother's plans in strict confidence.  And she knew that."

             "So, you're willing to help?"

             "Yes, but that does NOT mean I will go along with my mother's plans," he stated.

             She smiled a bit at that, "Good, because I have no desire to go along with her plans either.  I don't know who I want to marry one day, if I even want to marry, but I do know it won't be you."

             "Same."

             They stood there for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts of how to deal with the article's ramifications.  Hermione wasn't quite sure if Malfoy would be able to find out how Skeeter was in the castle, but she knew he had more chance than she did.  Since that nasty woman was talking to Slytherins, not Gryffindors.

             Besides, stopping Skeeter would only end the possibility of more, possibly even worse articles.  It would not deal with the ramifications of this article.

             She needed to send a letter to Padfoot.  Or even floo call him if McGonagall would let her.  

             "Let me know if you find out anything. I usually study-"

             "In the room next door, I know.  Still don't know how you found where I was so quickly."

             She thought of the old parchment tucked into her pocket and smiled enigmatically, "That's for me to know.  Not you."

             He rolled his eyes at her, "Fine, Black, keep your bloody secrets.  Are we finished?"

             She thought for a moment, "Actually, no.  Revenge on Parkinson."

             "I'll handle it.  She betrayed me, not you.  Though I won't say anything if she begins to glow."

             Hermione had been idly staring at a broken bookshelf crowded with what looked like old arithmancy textbooks.  Her head jerked up and she met his eyes.

             "How did you-"

             "Honestly, Black, who else could it be?  You, Potter, and Weasley are the only three with enough brains, guts, and ingenuity to pull off a prank on those two marauding doppelgangers."

             "Why did you never say anything?  I'm sure you would've enjoyed giving us away."

             He shrugged, "They deserved it.  Plus, knowledge, once shared, can never be unshared."

             His words were so similar to what his mother had written in that letter at Christmas that Hermione felt a bit off kilter.  She sometimes forgot that Malfoy and Narcissa were related.  He was just so transparent compared to his mother.

             She choose to abandon that subject.  She didn’t much care for feeling off-kilter.

             Besides, she’d just told the twins who had made them glow for so long.  So the secret was worth nothing, not something she was willing to enlighten Malfoy on.  Let him find out later, if he ever tried to use it against her.

             “So, if you’re going to handle Parkinson, I need to owl my dad.  I’m sure there are people out there that would love to use the article and the questions it raises against us.”

             She looked pointedly at him.

             He raised up his hands in defense, “Don’t look at me!  You may be a mu-“

             She whipped out her wand and had it trained on him before he finished the first syllable.

             He gulped, “-uggleborn, but you’re still family.  Malfoys don’t attack family.  We may ignore, scream at, insult or disown them, but we don’t attack them.”

             “The Blacks aren’t quite so loyal to blood.”  
              “Yes, but I’m a Malfoy, not a Black.  And you’re adopted.  You have a lot less Black in you than I do.  I think that means we can agree to follow different rules.”

             She stared at him for a moment.  Wondering at the ramifications of this agreement.  Could she agree not to attack him? Not attack someone with whom she shared so many disagreements and bad memories? Someone who had called her a vile mudblood?

             Despite her laughter and the easy conversation that had come after, she was still angry at him.  Still unwilling to forgive him for what he had said.  But the other, more rational part of her knew that she needed him.  And that continuing to fight with him would only impede things.

             “I think I can agree with a few caveats.”

             “Name them.”

             “Never call me a mudblood again.  To my face or behind my back.”

             He thought for a moment, looking past her to stare at a rusted iron candelabra on the wall.  “May I call others that?”

             “Only if you want to face my wrath.”

             He met her eyes and smirked, “So, basically, no using that word at all.”

             “Yes.”

             “I can try.  What else?”

             “Never, ever, bring up your aunt around me.”

             He frowned, “Aunt Andromeda?  I thought you liked her.”

             “No, the other one.”

             He looked confused for a moment, and then his eyes widened as he realized who she meant.

             “HER?  I’ve never even met that woman!  And glad of it!  The gossip I’ve overheard…” he shuddered.

             She stared at him in astonishment.

             He actually looked rather disgusted and a bit fearful at the mention of Bellatrix Lestrange.

             Had she been wrong about him being the beloved nephew?  That thought made her draw up short.  She’d already been surprised once before by Malfoy’s knowledge of Shakespeare.  Had she been reading him wrong for so many years?  Was she wrong about more things?

             No, she couldn’t be.  She’d seen him bully those first years.  Seen him slipping dangerous ingredients into Gryffindor potions when Snape wasn’t looking.  Watched him sneer at Harry and her every time they came near each other, muttering insults and crude jokes to his cronies.

             After all, not everyone was all bad.  She’d just failed to realize that he was a fully formed person, with good and bad parts.  So now, the discovery of his good parts, was shocking her. 

             She felt a bit like her world had been turned on its side.  If she’d been wrong about Malfoy, what else was she wrong about?

             She didn’t really care to consider that thought.

           Not now.

           She put her wand away and took few steps forward.  "Mutual vows of fealty work for you?  You do know what they are, right?"

           He sneered at her, "What, do you think I'm an ignoramus?  Of course I do."  He stuck out his hand towards her, giving her a challenging look.

           She met his eyes and held out her own hand.  He grasped it firmly and she began to speak.

           "I, Hermione Granger Black, swear to the Malfoy rule of not attacking family, as pertains to Draco Lucius Malfoy, so long as he does not use the term 'mudblood' or mention Bellatrix Lestrange around me."

           His grip on her hand strengthened. She noticed he had callouses on his hand, where each finger met the palm of his hand Harry, Ron, and Ginny all had calluses in the same spot from so much time spent gripping broomsticks. For some reason that detail soothed her, made her feel a bit better about agreeing to this ceasefire.

             “I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, swear to the Malfoy rule of not attacking family, as pertains to my cousin through adoption, Hermione Granger Black, so long as she never supports my mother’s wish to marry us.”

             She looked at him in surprise, he merely shrugged. 

             Oh, well, she didn’t really mind his caveat.  Since she had no interest in marrying him anyways.

             “I accept this sworn oath.”

             “I accept this sworn oath.”

             As soon as the last syllable was out of his mouth a current of electricity went between their clasped hands.  Sealing the agreement, ensuring that each would know if it was broken by the other.  As soon as the shock ended they pulled their hands apart.  Hermione quickly tugged down her sleeve, it had risen up enough to show a sharply carved ‘h’.  Malfoy didn’t even seem to notice, he was gazing out the window, a thoughtful expression on his face.

             “I’ll be going now, Malfoy.  Let me know what you find out.”

             He nodded absently, and she didn’t wait for a verbal reply.  She needed to find out if Padfoot had seen the article and what he was doing to stop it from creating a situation they didn’t want.

             Time was of the essence, and she’d wasted too much of it with Malfoy.

XXX

             Narcissa stretched rather lazily before reaching over to lift her robes off the floor.  She was sore in places that she’d forgotten could be sore.  It had been much too long since they’d done this.  Something she needed to remedy.

             A quiet murmur and her robes were transfigured into a lovely silken house robe.  She slipped it on, and kicked the rest of her clothing into a pile. 

             The house elves could deal with it later.

             She tied the robe closed and glanced over at Lucius.  He was standing at his desk, which he had raised so he could write easily while standing.  She wasn’t really surprised at that.  She wouldn’t want to sit down either if she was him.

             Her lips curled up at the corners.  It hadn’t taken very long for her to get him to understand just why it was in his best interest to use his connections to put a stop to anyone that might try to use Skeeter’s article against Hermione Black.  He really was a fast learner, and fairly good at seeing how things could be useful.

             His issue lay in being unable to truly appreciate just how quickly things could change.  Or in seeing just how important one small, seemingly inconsequential detail could be.

             He thought big, never realizing that it was the small things that truly mattered.

             She’d read once that you must never give an order that you know won’t be followed.  The same was true in politics.  You must never enact a policy that you know won’t be supported.  Lucius knew this, and he always did well when using this rule.

             But he failed to realize that the rule was flexible.  That if a policy won’t be supported, you don’t change the policy or abandon it.  Rather, you slowly, one small detail at a time, change the mindset so that such a policy would be supported.

             She walked over and rose onto her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the check.  Her hand wrapped around him, resting on his hip, right above the swell of his backside.  He didn’t stop writing the letter he was working on, but his breath gave a little hitch.  She could tell he was wondering if she was going to remind him just what they had done.

             She chose not to.  He didn’t need a reminder right now.  Maybe tonight she’d remind him, and then reward him for all his hard work.

             Her heart quickened at the thought. 

             Oh, yes, it had been much too long since they’d done this.

             His free hand came up to stroke her check as he kept scribbling away on the parchment.

             She leaned into his hand for a moment, taking comfort in it.  Sure in the knowledge that he would always support her.  Just as she supported him.  Then she pulled back, pressing a small kiss to his hand and headed out of the room.  Leaving him standing there at his desk, scribbling away in nothing but his pants and the robe he’d thrown over himself.

             An hour later she was bathed and once again properly dressed.  She didn’t have floo-access to the Black cottage, so she headed out of the manor and walked a bit up the lane, until she felt the anti-apparition wards drop.

             A moment later she stood at the gate of that quaint, ivy-covered cottage her cousin now called home.

             As soon as she put her hand on the front garden gate she felt the wards catch her, holding her and checking her identity.  She held her breath, hoping Sirius hadn’t changed them after he saw the article.  He had to know she’d had nothing to do with it.

             Grudgingly, the wards slipped away from her, releasing her and allowing her to open the gate.  She quickly walked up the gravel pathway. 

             Surprisingly, it wasn’t the house-elf waiting for her in the open doorway.  Rather, it was her sister.

             “Ah, there you are Cissy, we were wondering when you’d show up,” Andromeda said in a very matter of fact tone.

             She continued to stand in the doorway, not moving aside to let Narcissa in.

             “Andromeda, I’m sure you know that I had nothing to do with that article.”

             “Yes, but what about your husband?  I’m sure he doesn’t like the idea of his son and heir marrying an adopted muggleborn.”

             Narcissa could see her point.  No one really knew that in every area except for the Dark Lord she ran the Malfoy family.  She’d been very careful to keep that fact hidden.  It was safer.

             “He believes it has as much possibility of occurring as Sirius does.  He has no interest in anyone even thinking it’s a possibility.”

             Andromeda’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms across her green woolen robes.

             “How can you be sure?”

             “Because when I left he was writing a number of letters to ensure that this article caused nothing to happen that could endanger the Black Family.  He knows the family is important to me.  And he loves me, so he will ensure that my family is protected.”

             “Even if that means helping Sirius Black and his adopted muggleborn daughter?”

             “Yes.”

             The two sisters stared at each other, judging each other.  Calculating each other in a way they had never done before.  Narcissa always forgot that Andromeda had also been a Slytherin.  And that she’d been quite a powerful one before she’d revealed her true thoughts.  No one had ever suspected that she’d been in love with a muggleborn Hufflepuff.

             Not until the two of them had run off and eloped.

             Even Bellatrix had been fooled, and she was not someone that was easily tricked.  She lived and breathed deception and distrust. 

             It made Narcissa wonder if Andromeda had really forgiven her.  If they were really putting the past behind them.  Or if it was nothing but an act.

             That thought made her a bit sad, but it wasn’t something she had time to dwell on.  Not now.

             “I suppose you know your husband quite well.”

             “As well as you know yours,” Narcissa responded.

             “Point,” Andromeda took a step back, holding the door open.  “Come in then, if Lucius is taking measures the others should know of it.  We don’t want to be tripping over each other.”

             Narcissa followed her sister into the cozy little entryway and divested herself of her winter cloak.  Hanging it on a rather simple peg on the wall.  She knew she should feel disgust at the simplicity evident in the cottage, but the warmth and love contained in the place stopped her.  It was just such a comfortable place, like a well-worn jumper.

             Nothing like the stark perfection of Malfoy Manor.

             Or the dark ornateness found at Grimmauld Place.

             She was led, not to the sitting room she’d sat in for tea with Sirius so long ago.  Rather, they went to a cozy little kitchen in the back of the house.  A fire crackled cheerfully in the kitchen hearth and a number of people sat around a gleaming wooden table.  Solid mugs of tea scattered among plates of biscuits. 

             She instantly felt like an unwelcome invader.

             She recognized Arthur and Molly Weasley, sitting together.  Dressed in their well-worn, simple robes.  There was also a man that she vaguely recognized as Xenophilius Lovegood.  His robes were made of velvet and silk, but so wrinkled that she had the strong urge to cast a few charms on them.  To see such nice fabric treated so shabbily…

             At the table was also a scarred man in patched, but meticulously ironed, robes.  She’d only spoken briefly to Remus Lupin at a few events, but she knew him to be a quietly intelligent man.  She’d heard that he’d been the one to teach Hermione and Harry before they began at Hogwarts.

             And, of course, there sat Sirius.  His long hair was hanging loose around his face, and his robes were clean, but beginning to become wrinkled.  Likely because her cousin was incapable of sitting up straight.

             “Cissy, good of you to come by,” Sirius said as Arthur Weasley stood up to pull her up a chair.

             The next hour was a long one for Narcissa.  She spent the time navigating this unfamiliar group, getting them to believe that Lucius really was helping them.  Then there was more discussion on what else needed to be done. 

             Lovegood offered to publish an article denying what Skeeter wrote, but she’d been able to persuade him that this wasn’t a good idea.  It had helped that Lupin and Andromeda had been on her side.  The Quibbler wasn’t known for printing truths, so anything published there would automatically be assumed to be false.

             “I have an idea,” Arthur Weasley said quietly after they had persuaded Lovegood that only the Daily Prophet could publish a believable article recanting what Skeeter wrote.

             “What is it, Arthur?” Sirius asked.

             “How about a series of articles on all of the myths, fables, and beliefs associated with family magic?  After all, it’s something that’s never truly been studied.  Not on a whole.  Each family has studied their own.  But all of the theories about it are unproven and untested.  If we show just how many beliefs there are, it will lend less weight to what Skeeter is sharing.  Especially if she starts publishing more pointed articles.”

             “And we know she’s going to do that, that woman hates my guts for denying her access to Harry for all of these years,” Sirius said with a scowl.

             Narcissa wasn’t surprised to hear the reason why Skeeter had made such a pointed attack against the Black family.  She’d never forgive anyone that stopped her from getting a story. 

             “And denying details on what happened to Hermione didn’t help either,” Lupin added.

             “That woman is just vile!” Molly Weasley spat.

             Narcissa never could’ve have believed it was possible, but she found herself agreeing with Molly Weasley née Prewett.  Skeeter needed to go down, and fast.  Before she did any damage they couldn’t fix.

             “I think that’s a very intelligent idea.  If we inundate the public with all of the contradicting information on family magic, there will be more room to maneuver to protect Hermione and her inheritance,” Narcissa said.

             “I hate to say it, but my cousin has hit the dragon on the nose.  We need to prove that family magic is extremely complicated and that what holds true for one family does not hold true for all.  So that no one can prove that you don’t understand your family magic, except for your own family.  And, as such only those of us with Black Family Magic can judge Hermione’s understanding of it.”  Sirius looked pointedly at Narcissa, and then at Andromeda.  “And, I can assume, dear cousins, that we all agree that Hermione understands our magic as well as we do.  Am I right?”

             “Sirius, do you even have to ask?” Andromeda said.

             “Asking makes future misunderstandings less likely,” he said.

             “Point.  Then, yes, I fully support that Hermione knows her magic as well as we do.  Cissy?”

             Narcissa couldn’t help it, she smiled, “Do you really think I’d be pushing for Hermione to marry Draco and not bind her magic if I didn’t think she had a full understanding of it?”

             Sirius chuckled, “Point.  Though I am curious why you put no weight in that nonsense about old family magic being dangerous when married to unbound family magic.”

             “Because the binding of half the family magic has only been happening since Hogwarts was established.  There are some debates on why it began, but I do know that pureblood families married each other without incident before that.  Even when everyone for several generations on both sides was pure or half-blooded.  I’m pretty sure Draco and Hermione would be completely fine if my romantic goals for them become true.”

             “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Narcissa is right,” Molly Weasley said.  Naricssa was a bit shocked at how informally the woman referred to her, but then, the Prewetts had never really been known for following social norms.

             Molly Weasley pulled out her wand and gave it a flick, “ _Genus Potestatem_ ”

             Everyone in the room began to glow.

             Narcissa gasped in shock when she realized that she was the only person in the room that glowed silver.

             She was the only one that hadn’t bound their family magic, ensuring that it could never be passed on.

             Molly Weasley née Prewett, the last member of a long and illustrious pureblood family, wife of Arthur Weasely, the head of another old and powerful, if not successful, family, had never bound her magic.

             The implications of this were unimaginable.  She’d been so sure that her theory was right.  That any children Draco and Hermione had would be fine, but she hadn’t been expecting proof.  There were seven Weasley children.  And they were all acknowledged to be successful and powerful in a wide variety of areas.

             “That explains the twins then,” Lupin stated.

             “I have the theory that family magic was bound to keep families pure.  So that they wouldn’t change.  It creates less rebellion if everyone has the same inclinations,” Lovegood pondered.

             “Didn’t work with me,” Sirius put in.

             “Don’t fool yourself cousin, you’re a Black to the bone.  You just directed it differently,” Andromeda stated.

             “Point,” Lupin said.

             Narcissa didn’t think she really wanted to know why they kept saying ‘point’.  She was sure it was something important to them, but she couldn’t see much use for it.  You couldn’t keep score on life, if you did you’d go insane when things went badly.  Or you’d become over confident when things went well.  Either way, you’d end up losing – possibly permanently.

             A tapping drew their eyes to the frosty kitchen window.  A snowy white owl sat perched there, a letter tied to its leg.

             Sirius sighed, “I wondered when Hermione would send a letter.”

             Narcissa had to stop herself from smirking after hearing the contents.  She couldn’t believe that Hermione and Draco were working together to get revenge on Pansy Parkinson and stop Skeeter from digging up more dirt.

             Glad to see that this whole mess was good for something.

             Now she’d just have to adjust her plans accordingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco are now on the same side, much to Narcissa's happiness. At least they are for now. Who knows how long it will last? And does it surprise anyone that Molly didn't bind her magic like most pureblood girls did when marrying a fellow pureblood?
> 
> Enjoy!


	12. A Bug Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco spies on Pansy.

                Draco pulled himself further into the dark niche created by a well-placed statue of a big-nosed warlock.  He could hear footsteps coming closer, he knew Pansy must be on her way to meet with Skeeter.  She’d made the mistake of telling him that Skeeter used some sort of small animagus form to enter Hogwarts and that they liked to meet in the old potions storeroom in the dungeons. Tonight he'd overheard her telling Daphne that she would be late to the library, she'd said she had to talk to someone.

                He’d quite purposefully not mentioned That Skeeter was an animagus to Black.  He didn’t want it to become common knowledge, and he was sure she’d tell all her friends.  And one of them would tell a responsible adult, and then he’d lose his chance to catch that nasty woman.  Because someone would think to put up an anti-animagus ward rather than trap her. 

                He supposed that there wasn't already an animagus ward because this was a school and some seventh year transfiguration students liked to try working on it.  Not to mention McGonagall and her cat trick.

No, it was better if only he knew until he caught her.

                He’d meant what he said, once something was shared, it can’t be unshared.  He’d made the mistake of trusting Pansy not to share his secrets.  She’d failed him.  He was pretending he didn’t know at the moment, keeping her close. 

                But once he caught Skeeter…

                Well, let’s just say Pansy was going to rue the day she betrayed him.

                He felt a pang of pain at the thought.  He'd really liked Pansy.  He could hold real conversations with her, unlike Crabbe and Goyle.  And she always had interesting comments about other students.  

                His father would probably tell him to keep her close, don't let her know he didn't trust her, and then use her.  But he couldn't stomach the thought.  Maybe he had too much of his mother in him, but he disliked the idea of even pretending to forgive a betrayer.  

                No, Pansy had destroyed their friendship.  And he refused to forgive her.

                She walked right past him, her stride confident.  She didn't even look around as she slipped into the old storeroom just down the hall from his hiding place.

                The door shut with a small click and he cautiously moved closer so he could hear what was said.

                "Miss Parkinson, so lovely to see you again.  Any more delightful tidbits for me?"

                "Why did you portray Draco that way?  He had no interest in going to the Yule Ball with Black.  You were supposed to write an article on how stupid and ridiculous arranged marriages are!  And imply it would be dangerous for all parties involved.  Not directly attack Black and paint Draco as a dutifully lovesick lapdog!"

                "Why, Miss Parkinson, what do you care if I attacked Black?  I thought you hated her?"

                "I do!  But what you insinuated... Don't you understand what they could do to her?!?"

                "So?"

                "So!?!  So?!?  It's atrocious!  It's one thing to willingly lock your magic, but quite another to have the choice taken from you!"

                "I don't quite see the difference.  After all, every pureblood girl does it.  And quite a few half-bloods."

                "Of course you wouldn't! Your parents are mudbloods!   You're almost one yourself!  What would you understand about family magic?"

                "Be careful, Miss Parkinson.  The quill is mightier than the wand."

                Draco slipped his hand inside his open robes, finding the pocket he had sewn there.  He didn't think Skeeter would attack Pansy, but he wanted to be prepared.

                Obviously, Pansy hadn't meant to betray him.  She'd just been too stupid to understand the ramifications of her actions.  He felt a brief pang of jealousy for Black and her group of friends. Potter and the Weasels may not have been the smartest, but they were at least intelligent enough to bring plans to Black or Lovegood before they acted on their own.

                Luckily Crabbe and Goyle never had ideas.

                Now he had to team up with Black to clean up this mess Pansy made.  His father was probably already on a warpath at the Daily Prophet.

                And his mother...

                She was likely already picking out wedding colors. 

                Obviously it wasn't Pansy being quoted in the article.  He wondered who it was.  He needed to find that out.

                "True, but I can use words just as well as you Skeeter.  One letter to my father and you'll be in terrible trouble for being an illegal animagus.  Not to mention all of the future spying possibilities you'll miss out on."

                "Now, Miss Parkinson, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement.  There's no need to reveal that."

                "There's no need if you stop this nonsense and recant this article."

                "Is that the only deal you'll take?"

                "Yes."

                "Fine, I'll recant the article and find other things to sell papers.  Now, did you bring me any information?"

                "Yes, it turns out Zabini's mother is on the look out for a new husband.  And she still has a current one.  Blaise said..."

                Draco tuned her out and moved back to the statue of the warlock.  He didn't believe Skeeter.  And that meant he had to catch her. 

                He pulled out a sturdy glass jar he'd just charmed today.  She had to be a very small animagus to get into the dungeons undetected.  So he was guessing some kind of insect or a rodent. 

                Unless she was a giant rat she'd fit in the jar.  

                Merlin, Pansy was possibly a bigger idiot than the Weasels if she believed Skeeter would give in so easily.  She had to have something up her sleeve.  Perhaps some dirt on Pansy's father.  Maybe he even knew Skeeter was an illegal animagus and it was more useful to keep the secret than keep his daughter happy.

                He knew all about parents picking others over you.  

                His father had missed his eleventh birthday, the last one he had at home, to meet with Fudge for dinner.  His mother had been livid.

                But his mother was now doing it too.  Honestly, did she really think Black deserved him?  He freely admitted she was a talented witch, and she was a Black more than a mud-.  His thoughts froze, he wondered if thinking the word counted.

                Better to be safe than sorry.

                She was more of a Black than a muggleborn, but that didn't mean it was acceptable for a Malfoy to marry her.   After all, their motto was Tourjours Pur.  Always Pure.

                And marrying a muggleborn adopted into a pureblood family had to be against that.

                The door began to open and Draco pushed himself back into the niche.  Pansy was sure to leave-

                "Oh, Miss Parkinson.  One more thing."

                "Yes?"

                " _Obliviate_!"

                Draco couldn't help it.  He gasped in shock and almost dropped the jar. 

                He hadn't been expecting that tactic.

                The dungeon was filled with such silence for a moment that it was if all sound had been obliviated with that spell.

                And then the small sound of insect wings cut through. 

                Years of playing quidditch was the only thing that saved Draco's plan.

                He didn't even think.  

                His feet moved forwards and his hand snapped forwards, closing around the small, buzzing beetle.  A second later and it was in the jar, the lid screwed tight.

                He was, after all, the second best seeker at Hogwarts.  Only Potter had ever beaten him to the snitch, and he'd spent all summer practicing to fix that, only to have quidditch canceled.

                But catching Skeeter after she just mind-raped his friend, albeit his well-meaning but idiotic friend, more than made up for it.

                "Draco?  What are you doing?  And why are we here?"

                He slipped the jar into his bag and turned to look at Pansy, standing in the doorway.  

                This was going to complicate things.  He'd planned to keep Skeeter trapped for awhile.  Make sure she understood things.  Then take her to Black and work out the rest of the details.

                But now...

                It all depended on how much Pansy had lost.  Because if it was more than this past conversation he couldn't let her go without help.  She might have stupidly betrayed him, but she'd done it with good intentions.  And he didn't have enough friends he could throw them away.  Even if he was extremely angry at her right now.

                He sighed, so mich for getting that Transfiguration paper written before curfew.

                "Pansy, what's the last thing you remember?"

                "I don't...." She frowned, wrinkling up her pug-like nose.  

                "What's your last CLEAR memory?"

                "I think... Yes, that's it.  I was walking back from visiting Heidi on the Durmstrang ship.  I was borrowing some of her makeup for the ball.  Then I saw...something.  I don't know what.  Everything after that is hazy.  What day is it?"

                Draco said a word that would terribly upset his mother. 

                Skeeter had apparently tried to erase all knowledge of her animagus form, but she'd failed to understand just how much Pansy would dwell on a problem or a new piece of information. Which meant she'd erased over three weeks worth of memories.

                Did he have to be surrounded by idiots?  It was as if the only competent person that was part of his life was Black.  And wasn't that a terrible thought?

                "Draco, what's going on?"

                Pansy was beginning to look more scared than confused and he felt a pang of pity for his well-meaning - if incompetent - friend.  It wasn't her fault she wasn't as clever as she thought she was.  

                Not everyone could be him.

                "The Yule Ball was three weeks ago."

                Her jaw dropped, "THREE WEEKS?  What in Merlin's Beard did you do!?!"

                "I didn't do a bloody thing.  But I'm about to."

                He settled his bag more carefully on his shoulder and then grabbed her wrist.  Luckily she was still in a state of shock, so she failed to fight or protest as he dragged her out of the dungeon and off to possibly the only other competent person in the entire castle.

                Merlin, he hated the fact that that person was Black.

                But at least she was better than Potter.

                He shoved open the old classroom's door and stopped in his tracks, Pansy letting out a small squeak as she ran into him.

                Black wasn't alone this time.  

                The entire bloody Ottery St. Catchpole group was here. Plus Longbottom.

                The Weaselette was sitting with Lovegood, working on what looked like an essay.  Potter was reading some old book and taking notes.  The Weasel was next to him, and he was poking at what was likely supposed to be a dancing quill - it looked more like it was having a seizure.

                And Black was sitting with her face to the door.  For some reason it struck him as particularly interesting that her tongue was sticking out and she appeared to be in deep thought.  She was looking over an essay, Longbottom's he was guessing, from the fact that the boy was watching her with a worried expression.

                He took all of this in with a single glance.  Since as soon as Pansy squeaked they all looked up.  Potter and Black drew their wands as they did so.  

                It was a little spooky how quickly those wands were trained on him.

                Apparently he'd heard correctly about their training sessions with Sirius Black.

                Black started to lower her wand when she saw it was him, but froze when he stepped into the room, revealing Pansy behind him.

                "Why is she with you?"

                He phrased his next words very carefully.

                "Because circumstances have changed and I think WE need to reevaluate the situation."

                She caught the emphasis he put on the word 'we' and relaxed a bit, though she didn't lower her wand.

                Nor did Potter.

                He let go of Pansy's wrist and pulled his bag open.  He grabbed the jar and then walked over to the desk in front of Black.  Ignoring the wands trained on him, he plunked the jar down, enjoying the way the beetle skittered around rather angrily.

                Black eyed the jar skeptically.

                "Are you implying this beetle is Skeeter?"

                "Not implying, I know it is.  She transformed right after she obliviated the past few weeks from Pansy's memory."

                Black eyes flew away from the beetle and landed on Pansy, measuring her, before moving to meet his eyes.

                "Are you saying she has no idea she betrayed you?"

                Pansy let out a quite audible gasp.

                "Yes, and I want it fixed.  It's hard to be angry at someone that doesn't remember what they did to make you angry."

                A snicker cut through the room and he threw a glare over at the Weasel.  He wasn't in the mood to be laughed at.

                "I betrayed Draco? But... I would never!" Pansy said, a hint of panic in her voice.  "Black!  This has to all be your fault!  What did you do?!?"

                "Hermione didn't do anything.  You're the one that told Rita Skeeter about Mrs. Malfoys marriage plans and helped her write this nasty article."  The Weaselette dug around in her bag and pulled out a folded piece of newspaper, which she then stuck rather forcefully in Pansy's face.

                And while Draco liked Pansy more than any Weasel, he took a great deal of pleasure in the look on Pansy's face as she narrowly avoided having the paper hit her nose. 

                Pansy snatched the paper and began to silently read it.

                “Malfoy, is this really Skeeter?”

                He turned back to look at Black.  “Yes, just look at the markings around the eyes.”

                The Gryffindors and Lovegood crowded around the jar, checking out the markings. After a moment, Black pulled out of the circle and came up to him.

                “How did you find out she was an animagus?”

                “I was in an unused part of the dungeon, eavesdropping on Pansy and Skeeter, when Skeeter obliviated Pansy, then a beetle flew past.  Not many beetles in the dungeon - alive that is - so I snagged her.”

                “And you just happened to be carrying an unbreakable jar with you?”

                He shrugged, “I was prepared for all possibilities.”

                “So what else did you come prepared with?”

                He opened his mouth, then realized he had no clue what else he could’ve been prepared to find.  He’d been completely certain she was an animagus, so had failed to think of other methods she could have used to sneak into Hogwarts.  He really needed to plan ahead better when dealing with Black.  She wasn’t like his friends, she didn’t take him at his word.

                “Do you really need to know?”

                “No, but I think you lied to me yesterday when you said you didn’t know how she came into the castle.”

                “Information, once shared, can’t be unshared,” he took refuge in one of his father’s favorite sayings.

                “Oh, don’t give me that.  You were going to tell me eventually anyway.  It wouldn't have hurt you to share it yesterday.  We were supposed to be working on this together."

                "No, you tasked me with stopping Skeeter.  Far as I can tell you aren't working on anything."

                She tried to raise one eyebrow at him, but the other one tagged along for part of the way, ruining the effect.

                "Draco Lucius Malfoy I am NOT doing nothing!"  She gestured at a massive stack of books near where she had been sitting. "I've been ignoring my schoolwork and doing research on family magic.  Preparing a defense in case the worst occurs.  Padfoot is working with our family friends on his end to stop it, but nothing is certain.  Besides, I'm not a Slytherin, it's not like I could easily spy on Parkinson to catch Skeeter."

                She had a point.  And heaven knew, if her magic was bound and the Black family line ended his mother would be impossible to live with.  Which would make his father grumpy, and that would mean he'd see him even less.  Maybe it was in his best interest to let her do her research.

                Not that he'd tell her that.  

                "Okay, fine, I could do a better job of catching Skeeter.  I did that.  Now what?  I'm not letting her getting away with attacking Pansy."

                "I thought you were angry at Pansy for betraying you.  You seemed pretty sure yesterday you wouldn't forgive her."

                He sighed, "Apparently she was more of an idiot than a traitor.  She expected Skeeter to write a different article.  She was actually demanding Skeeter recant the article - which is why she's like this."

                He made a gesture at Pansy, who looked to be almost finished with the article.  She seemed completely appalled at it's contents.

                "I find that hard to believe.  You weren't portrayed that negatively in there."

                "I think you're misunderstanding what part she took umbrage with."

                "Oh Merlin!" Pansy exclaimed, her hands tightening on the paper, crumpling it up.  She looked over at Black, her face full of disbelief. "I did this?  Black, I'm so sorry!  What...what she's implying...what they could do to you...the loss of choice..."

                The room hung silent for a moment, Black looked totally lost for words.

                "Blimey.  I've seen it all now," the Weasel exclaimed.

                "Everyone has a limit.  No one is pure evil," Lovegood remarked.

                Draco found those words to be very true, but didn't quite like what they implied.

                "I'd say Voldemort is pure evil," Potter said.  

                "Point," the Weaselette said.

                "I'd say Skeeter may not be pure evil, but she is rather close. It takes something pretty nasty to delete part of someone, just to sell more newspapers." Longbottom said, making Draco look at him in surprise.  He rarely heard the boy speak.  It was said he hated talking, which is why he preffered plants to people.  Or at least Slytherins said that. Maybe he was different when Slytherins weren't around.

                "So what do we do now?  We can't keep Skeeter in a jar forever," Potter asked.

                "Aw, but I've always wanted a pet.  And if it's an evil one I won't mind when the twins do things to it," the Weasel said.

                That drew some snickers and smiles.  Even Draco felt himself smile.  The idea of letting the doppelgangers loose on Skeeter....

                Sadly, that wasn't really an option.

                "I think we need to go to a teacher.  We can't let Parkinson live without her memories.  And none of us know enough about mind magic to help her," Black stated.

                "I suppose you think we should go to Dumbledore?" Draco asked.

                She shook her head, her hair moving in such a way that he found himself staring at it.  Watching how it trailed over he shoulder and fell across her face.  She absently pushed it back behind her ear.

                "No, Dumbledore is a great man, but he tends to like to keep things like this quiet.  And we don't need quiet.  We need Skeeter prosecuted and her articles called into doubt.  So no one can use any information she's gathered as evidence.  I think we should go to Snape."

                His eyes flew to meet hers in surprise.  Her usually soft brown eyes were as hard as stone.  He remembered what he'd once thought about Black confusing justice and revenge.  

                He almost felt sorry for Skeeter.  She'd attacked the wrong person.

                "What! Snape?" Potter exclaimed.

                "Harry, I know he hates you, but he loves his little snakes.  I'm sure you can see that.  Once he learns someone snuck into Hogwarts and hurt one of his own..."

                Black trailed off as everyone stared at her in shock.  

                "Blimey, Hermione.  I'm glad we're on the same side."

                For once, Draco found himself agreeing with the Weasel.  He hadn't even thought of going to Professor Snape.

                But now that she'd said something it sounded ridiculously obvious.  

                Hadn't his father told him to go to Professor Snape if he ever had a problem and didn't have time to send an owl home?

                "I shouldn't go with you.  Snape hates my guts since I look like my father and not my mother," Potter said.

                Draco sensed an interesting story there, but didn't ask, he could look into it later, once he dealt with more important things.  He might even be able to ask Black, if she was in an amiable mood and it wasn't a huge secret.  And if it was a huge secret...

                Well, then he'd definitely have to find it out.

                "You're right, Harry.  I think I should go with, and Neville too.  Snape pays a lot less attention to him than any of the rest of us."  Black grabbed the jar and slipped in her own bag. Draco wanted to protest, but didn't have an good enough reason that wouldn't lead to a pointless, time wasting argument.

                The Weaselette spoke, "Are you sure it's smart to go, 'Mione?  Doesn't he hate you almost as much as Harry? Because of Padfoot?"

                Now he really wanted to hear that story.

                "Yes, but I'm intimately involved with this situation.  I doubt Snape knew about Mrs. Malfoy's matrimonial ambitions for Malfoy and me.  Also, I want to know what he decides to do, I don't want to hear about it second-hand."

                "Don't you trust me to tell it accurately?"  Longbottom asked.

                Black flushed, "Well, yes, but..."

                "But Hermione likes primary sources.  It helps her make sense of the world.  Not that it really ever makes sense," Lovegood answered.  Cutting Black off.

                Draco had no idea what primary sources were, but he assumed it meant hearing information from the original source.  

                "Are we going to go see Professor Snape now?  It's not getting any earlier and I'd like to be able to spend part of tonight studying," Draco said, trying to get them moving.  Since Black had Skeeter he couldn't just leave.

                "Point," Black said, "Let's go."

                The four of them left the room, leaving the Weasels, Lovegood and Potter behind.

                "Why did you say 'point' back there? The Weaselette said it earlier, too," Draco asked Black as they made their way down a spiral staircase.  Longbottom was walking behind them with Pansy, who still looked incredibly shocked and out of it.

                "Really, Malfoy, the Weaselette?" she said.

                He shrugged, "You hang out with two people with the same last name and I have to get creative.  I'm certainly not going to call her Ginny.  I barely know her."

                "Okay, point."

                "There you go again."

                "Oh, sorry, it's just a thing we do in our family." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a strange reddish coin. "We carry these coins.  They can be set to track certain things.  Uncle Remus got the idea from the Hogwarts House points system.  We used them in lessons to keep track of behavior and right answers and such.  It's a complicated bit of magic, but it tracks when you say 'point' and who you're referring to.  The adults even started doing it.  We have a chart at home that is kept magically updated.  It also adds new names, so you're now on it.  We reset it on Christmas. And the winner gets an extra Christmas gift from everyone else.  We did more when we were younger."

                He felt a little odd knowing his name was on something in her home, but the entire idea was interesting.  It suited his sense of competition.  He casually jumped over one of the trick steps, she followed him.

                "So shouldn't I have gotten a point for catching Skeeter?"

                "Point."

                He grinned at that, and noticed that she smiled a bit too.

                This was getting weird.

                "Ah!"

                He jumped and turned around to see Longbottom holding Pansy's arm.  Stopping her from falling on her face as her foot passed right through the now disappeared step.

                She looked even more shaken than before.  He started to come back up the steps.

                "You alright, Pans?"

                She reached out and gripped Longbottom's arm with both of her hands and shifted so that she was now standing on her own two feet.

                "I-I'm fine.  Let's just go."

                And for the first time in his life, Draco deliberately decided not to punish Pansy for stupidly betraying him.  She'd been punished enough.

                They continued on their way to Professor Snape's office with no more conversation.  He thought about asking Black why Snape hated her dad so much, but he had a feeling it wasn't the right time.

                Interestingly, Pansy held onto Longbottom's arm until Black knocked very sharply on Professor Snape's door.

                And, even more interestingly, Longbottom didn't seem to mind at all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, an entire chapter from one point of view! It was interesting having to write everything from Draco's point of view. Also, I think Pansy took a turn in a direction none of you seemed to suspect. I was going to try and post this on Saturday, but I had a friend come in out of town on Saturday and then today I went to Busan for a sand art festival. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	13. The Bat's Lair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aurors are summoned.

        "Let me speak," Malfoy hissed right before the door opened and revealed their hook-nosed potions professor.

        The scowl on his face softened a bit when he realized that Parkinson and Malfoy were part of the little group in front of him.

        "May I help you?" his words were entirely directed at Malfoy.

        Hermione was completely fine with letting Malfoy do the talking.  He would get much better results.  She was only here to make sure the accurate flow of information continued.  Neville was her backup.

        He wasn't as fast at spellcasting as Harry or Ron, but he had much better control over his temper.

        If he even had a temper, she'd never witnessed it.

        It was an added bonus that Neville was one of the few people Snape ignored in class.  She figured it likely had to do with how protective Mrs. Longbottom was of her only child.  If Snape treated Neville like he did anyone else, than Hogwarts would soon be in need of a new Potions Master.

        "Sir, Pansy was attacked," Malfoy started to say.

        Snape’s eyes flashed over to Hermione, their gaze accusing.

        "And you managed to get her attacker to come with you willingly?  I'm quite impressed Mr. Malfoy."

        "No, sir.  It wasn't Black.  In fact, when Black found out it was her idea to come see you first."

        "Oh?"

        "Yes, sir.  It was Rita Skeeter.  She obliviated Pansy."

        Snape's piercing gaze studied Parkinson, "And do you have proof of this fact?  Accusing a famous reporter of such a deed... It could prove quite difficult to prove.  Especially as she has been forbidden access to Hogwarts."

        Malfoy's eyes flickered to Hermione and he gave her a small nod.  She took that as a sign that she could bring out the proof. She slipped her hand in her bag and pulled out the jar.  The beetle inside was scurrying around rather angrily.  Skeeter knew what was coming.

        She held up the jar so Snape could see its contents clearly in the torchlight. "Sir, Malfoy managed to catch Skeeter right after she transformed for a quick getaway."

        Something flickered in Snape's eyes, if she hadn't been staring directly at him, she would've missed it. She just wasn't sure what it was.

        He looked once again at Parkinson, making her shift backwards so she was slightly behind Neville. 

        "Miss Parkinson, were you obliviated?"

        She nodded, very subdued.  Hermione could only assume losing your memory and learning you betrayed one of your best friends left an impact.

        She lowered the jar and absently tugged on the sleeve of the arm holding the jar.  She knew all about how one event could change everything.

        Snape stepped backwards, holding his office door wide open.  "Get in here."

        The four of them moved inside and stood awkwardly by the door as Snape strode over to his desk.  He pulled put a few pieces of parchment and began scribbling a short message on three of them.  

        "Mitsy."

        A floppy-eared house elf appeared in the room; dressed in a Hogwarts tea towel

        "Yes, sir?"

        He handed her the sheets of parchment.  "Make sure these go to Roy Parkinson, whomever is currently head auror on duty, and Albus Dumbledore.  In that order and as quickly as possible."

        Mitsy took the sheets of parchment and bowed low, "Yes, sir."

        As soon as the elf popped out he turned his attention back to the four of them.  His scowl deepened as he realized all four of them were still standing in the         doorway.

        "You may sit," he pointed at the table and chairs sitting over in a corner of the simple office.  Hermione moved to take a seat and found herself stuck sitting next to Malfoy, since Parkinson was still unwilling to let go of Neville.

        Of all of her friends, Neville was the only one that had never had any negative confrontations with Malfoy or Parkinson.  He was a wealthy pureblood like them, and usually kept to himself.  Hermione believed she would've been in the same category as Neville if she hadn't had Harry for a brother.  

        And even that might not have been a big deal if Malfoy hadn't met them on the train and demanded that Harry be his friend, not Ron's.  Since Ron wasn't the 'right sort' of pureblood. 

        Honestly.

        Snape seated himself at his desk and resumed the grading she assumed they had interrupted. Silence sat heavy on the room, none of them were willing to break it.

        She set the jar on the table next to an ancient looking tea set and then adjusted her sleeves.  She noticed Malfoy give her an odd look as she did so.

        She ignored him and stared at the now utterly dejected beetle moping in the jar. 

        Now that a competent adult had been informed, Skeeter knew that her chances of escape where utterly nil.

        She didn't know how long they all sat there, Snape didn't appear to like clocks, but it was long enough for the elegantly engraved teapot to stop steaming. 

        There was obviously a story behind the tea set.  The carvings looked to be some sort of house crest, but she didn't recognize it.  That might've been because the pot was so scarred and scrapped up.  Or perhaps it was the last heirloom of a long deceased noble house.  She knew Snape had grown up in the muggle world, but had known about magic his entire life.  He'd told Harry's mother all about Hogwarts.  She'd learned that during the few times Uncle Remus had told them stories of the past.  Padfoot rarely spoke about Snape or Harry's mum.

        A heavy knock sounded on the door, making her jump.  She wasn't the only one.  Malfoy had been thinking so hard that he almost fell off his chair.  Only her own surprise stopped her from snickering at him.

        "Come in," Snape said as he stood up and moved around his desk, his cloak billowing behind him.

        The door opened to reveal Professor Dumbledore, and quite a few people behind him.  She didn't think she’d ever seen the Headmaster annoyed before.

        "Severus, you summoned the aurors?  I take it that there is a good reason?  Your note only said there was an emergency and to come quickly."

        "Yes.  One of my students was attacked."

        Dumbledore's eyes flickered over to the group seated around the simple table.

        "No, surprisingly, it was not Miss Black or her friends.  It was an adult.  A well-known adult entered the castle without your permission to discover secrets and then attacked Pansy Parkinson in order to keep her own secrets.  She obliviated my student."  He practically spat out the last sentence.  And Hermione realized that the emotion she had seen before was anger.  Snape was utterly furious.  But that he'd hid it so well...

        And she'd always thought that he was extremely easy to read.  Did he normally not try and hide his emotions? Or was his apparent hatred of Harry and her just a facade?  Was there more to the Hogwarts bat than she had thought?

        Maybe she needed to push for more stories from Padfoot and Uncle Remus.

        "Can you move please Headmaster?  We would like to hear this," a familiar gravelly voice said from out in the hallway.

        Professor Dumbledore let out a small breath and cleared his face of annoyance before stepping into the office and then moving off to the side.

        Quite a few people followed him in.  There were four aurors and a man in elegant hunter green robes.  She recognized him as being Mr. Parkinson.  He was one of the few people Padfoot didn't mind speaking with at Malfoy hosted events.

        She wasn't too surprised to see who the aurors were.  Padfoot and Alice Longbottom spent more of the school year working than they did sleeping.  With them was Dora, though Hermione knew better than to call her that in public now that she was an auror.  The last person was a woman that she had never met, but assumed was Auror Evelyn Whistledown, Padfoot's regular partner.

        Auror Whistledown was a petite woman with a head of uncontrollable, bushy brown curls that were cut extremely short.  Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for her, she'd hate to have hair like that.

        Mrs. Longbottom looked over Neville before lingering on Parkinson's hands holding her son's arm.  Once she was certain he was fine she became extremely business-like.

        "So, Miss Pansy Parkinson was obliviated?" She asked, "Do you have proof of who did it?"

        Hermione spoke up, "It was Rita Skeeter.  Draco Malfoy managed to capture her right after she did it."

        Everyone looked at Malfoy.  He shrugged, "She made the mistake of turning into something about the same size as a snitch right before she flew past my hiding place.  I'm not a seeker for nothing."

        Padfoot chuckled, "Never underestimate a quidditch player."

        Quite a few people seemed rather surprised that he had just laughed at something a Malfoy had said.

        Padfoot looked around at them, "What?  He's family and he did a good job."

        "So am I," Dora said, "but you didn't hear me laughing."

        "But you're also not a quidditch player," Padfoot stated.

        "Point," Hermione said, earning herself a glare from Dora.

        "Can we please stop this nonsense?  My daughter was attacked and I'd like to get her some help.  And also get the culprit punished," Mr. Parkinson said with frustration.

       "I second that," Snape said coolly.

        And so they shared their story.  Malfoy told most of it, with Hermione filling in back story and Parkinson sharing the little bit she remembered from the past few weeks.

        Dora was the one keeping notes, but she noticed that Auror Whistledown kept her eyes firmly fixed on each speaker.  Hermione assumed that a memory of these interviews would be logged and stored for use in any further investigations or in court.  When they were finished Dora and Auror Whistledown took the Parkinsons to St. Mungos.

        Parkinson was very reluctant to let go of Neville, but he promised to meet her when she came back if she wanted to.  

        This exchange was very interesting to Mr. Parkinson and Mrs. Longbottom.  Hermione also found it interesting.  She wasn't sure what it would come to, or even if it would come to anything.  Parkinson might be back to her previous self once she regained her memories. If she was able to recover them.  It had been less than 24 hours though, so the chances were good.  Especially since she hadn't yet slept.

        It depended on just how much power Skeeter put into the spell.

        "Mr. Malfoy, would you be willing to log your memory of this evening with the aurors?  You as well Hermione, Neville," Mrs. Longbottom asked.

        "If one of my parents are present, then yes," Malfoy said.

        "Of course," Padfoot said, "I'll send Cissy an owl.  It will likely be tomorrow night.  Hermione, Neville?  Do you want to do it now?  Or with Draco tomorrow?"

        "I think tomorrow is best," Professor Dumbledore said.  "It will be easier to arrange transport to and from the school."

        "Sounds good to me, does that work for you, Alice?" Padfoot said.

        "That will be fine," she looked around.  "I believe we're all done here."

        "Actually, I think I want to see where they caught Skeeter.  Just for my own knowledge.  Draco, would you mind showing me where it all happened?"

        Malfoy looked taken aback at being asked to show his cousin around.

        "Um, alright.  It's on the other side of the dungeon."

        Padfoot clapped his hands and moved to the door, "Then let's get going.  It must be past curfew."

        Hermione watched her dad and her- wait, what did she call Draco Malfoy now?  He wasn't exactly her enemy.  He hadn't apologized for calling her a mudblood either, he'd only sworn not to do it again.  So they weren't friends.  And he wasn't just a simple classmate.  They had worked together to solve this issues, so maybe ally would work?

        That seemed the safest word to define their relationship.  For now.

        "Then I'll escort these two on up to Gryffindor Tower.  Make sure no overzealous prefect gets them in trouble," Mrs. Longbottom said.

        Neither Snape nor Professor Dumbledore disagreed.  Hermione could just bet that the Headmaster was about to have words with his potions professor.  She was just glad that he had acted just as she had predicted.  Especially since he was apparently not quite what he seemed.

        She followed Neville and his mother through the castle.  The two of them were speaking quietly as they walked in front of her.  Likely catching up since Neville had not gone home for Christmas.

        Her thoughts drifted back to Draco Malfoy.  He was really confusing her lately.  Back before Christmas he'd called her a mudblood and acted worse than he ever had before. But just yesterday he'd been hiding in fear from her. And then he had agreed to help her solve the Skeeter mess.  Granted, he had a stake in it too, but still.

        Had her old, anger-fueled plans to change him really come to something?  Because she couldn't imagine the Draco Malfoy of a year ago working with her for anything.

        Nor could she picture him coming to her first after his friend was just attacked.

        He had changed, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.

XXX

        "Albus, don't you dare try to say I shouldn't have called the aurors.  One of MY students was attacked.  And not just attacked.  Her mind was raped.  Part of her inner-self was taken.  Three weeks is a long time when you aren't yet fifteen."

        Albus closed his mouth, his mind racing as he tried to think of the words that would convince Severus that calling the aurors before notifying the headmaster - even in circumstances such as these - was not what you did.

        Sadly, he couldn't think of an argument that was strong enough.  So be gave in.

        Maybe he was getting old, if he kept bumping heads with past students that were able to resist his persuasion techniques.

        Granted, many of them had done things he had failed with. Like Sirius discovering Voldemort's horcruxes.  Or the success of raising Harry himself, rather than letting him grow up with his muggle relatives.  He really needed to look into why the blood wards were still working.  Once this tournament business was finished with.

        "Alright, Severus, I won't say you shouldn't have called for the aurors.  I simply wish that you had informed me before doing so.  Such as in the note you sent to me," Albus gave Severus the best disappointed look he could manage.

        Severus rolled his eyes at him, "Albus, I'm not your student anymore.  And I thought you would be glad that Skeeter was caught.  So there will be no more articles threatening the happiness of your precious Potter's family."

        The Headmaster smiled a bit at that, his eyes twinkling.  "Oh, I believe Narcissa Malfoy had the situation well in hand.  Today I received an anonymous petition for the Wizengamot to change some laws regarding magical adoptions and family magic.  There were pitifully few signatures.  I suspect the Malfoys were behind that.  As a former compatriot of Lucius Malfoy I assume you have been in contact with him about this?"

        Severus moved to go sit down at his desk, pulling out clean parchment and dipping his quill in the inkwell.  

        "Yes, and that reminds me, I should inform Lucius of the events that occurred this evening.  As his son was a prominent participant."

        Albus' smile deepened as Severus pointedly focused all of his attention on the letter.  He likely thought he'd have more of a fight on his hands for calling the aurors.  But Albus knew when to wage battles and when to back down gracefully.  

        "Then I shall leave you to it.  I believe Floppy will have my evening snack ready by now.  I do hope tonight is lemon cream pie.  It's been awhile since they made it down in the kitchens.  Not very English I suppose."

        "Goodnight, Albus.  I will see you at breakfast," the potions master said, never looking up from his letter.

        Albus let himself out and began to whistle as he made his way through the castle.

        He may not have wanted the aurors in Hogwarts, but he supposed things had worked out for the best.  And he needed to keep an eye on young M

XXX

        Narcissa was enjoying a glass of wine as she soaked in the tub.  She felt extremely satisfied and relaxed, even if her muscles were sorer than they'd been in ages.

        She really should thank Skeeter.  That article had helped rekindle the physical side of her marriage.  And in such a delightful way, too.

        She lifted her leg up and wiggled her toes in the thin layer pale blue bubbles resting on the water; letting out a small moan as she stretched her leg.

        Just that morning an anonymous petition had begun circling.  It wanted to recommend a law for all magically adopted children to be evaluated by the Wizengamot, in order to determine if they could fully grasp the enormity of what they had been adopted into.  

        Lucuis had been happy to inform her that it had only gained seven of the required hundred signatures.  And he was sure one of those seven had proposed it.  

        Her money was on Monix Selwyn or Kevan Nott.  

        Nott had been a Death Eater and seemed quite certain any damage he could do to an auror or their family would balance out pleading the Imperius if the Dark Lord returned.

        And Selwyn blamed Sirius for his son getting sent to Azkaban on muggle baiting and torture charges.

        Too bad they had failed to realize that the Malfoys were aligning themselves with the current Black Family Patriarch.  

        No one ever did any research anymore.

        If the Dark Lord had done his research he never would have attacked Lily Potter nee Evans.  

        Lily Potter had been a muggleborn, and a young one at that.  Her family magic wasn't set yet.  Likely why young Harry looked so much like his father, despite the fact that his mother had not bound her magic.  No muggleborn ever did.

        If the Dark Lord had done his research he would have known that Lily Potter had always been extremely protective of those she loved.  Her defense of Snape through the years had been proof of that.

        Narcissa was positive that Lily Potter's desire to protect those she loved had fueled whatever had protected Harry from the killing curse.  

        She wasn't entirely sure, but she assumed that protection lasted still, to some degree.  There had been no attacks on Harry as a child, despite several being planned.  And there had never been an explanation for why the plans didn't work or even finish getting planned.

        She was working on a lot of assumptions here, but the only person that might know details wasn't exactly her friend, or even ally.  And even if she was, he likely wouldn't tell her.  Albus Dumbledore liked his secrets.

        She tilted her head back and drained her wine glass. She wanted another one, but she'd already been in the bath for an hour.  Lucius had to be done with his paperwork soon.  And she was feeling once again up for another round.

        Settled, she set the glass down and stood up.  The silky bubbles slowly sliding off her.  

        She reached up and touched a small button.  The water disappeared from the tub and then the entire thing shifted. By the time it was done she was standing in a luxurious shower; a multitude of jets aimed to continue the relaxation the tub had started.

        She had just finished rinsing and was wrapping a towel around herself when there was a knock on the door.

        "Love, may I come in?  I've just had a letter from Severus Snape.  I believe you need to hear it."

        Snape had sent a letter?  There must have been a development at Hogwarts.  He'd been the recipient of one of the many owls that had flown out yesterday.  He was their most trustworthy adult contact there.

        "You may, I'm almost finished."

        She moved over to her mirror and began applying moisturizer as he entered.  

        In the mirror she could see him give her an appreciative gaze, but he didn't let her near-nudity distract him. 

        He had always been very dedicated.

        "Apparently the letter Hermione Black sent yesterday spoke the truth.  Our son has an alliance with her and managed to capture Rita Skeeter in her animagus form this evening.  This was after Skeeter obliviated Pansy Parkinson of most of her memory of the past few weeks.  While this is rather unfortunate for Miss Parkinson, and Severus is quite angry about it, I see this as a moment of good fortune for us.  The aurors have taken Skeeter into custody and charges have been laid against her for trespassing, illegal use of spells, and attacking a minor.  The last one will be particularly hard to beat since Roy Parkinson has almost as many connections as I do and he isn’t too happy about his daughter being hurt.  Apparently Miss Parkinson is a bit of a mess at the moment.  Something about her latching onto Neville Longbottom of all people."

        She finished moisturizing and picked up her hairbrush. The Longbottom heir and Pansy Parkinson?  Fostering that little relationship would be a good move.  Salintra Parkinson would be just as happy to have her daughter marry a Longbottom as a Malfoy.  Both houses were extremely old and well-respected.  And the Parkinsons had remained neutral in the last war, though they held many of the old beliefs.

        "So there will be no more articles."

        "I've exchanged letters with Sirius Black, we're going to try and sue her for slander.  I'm positive the Daily Prophet won't touch her with a ten-foot pole after this mess.  And no other publication carries as much weight."

        She looked up and met his eyes in the mirror, "I forgot to mention this last night, but the Quibbler is about to inundate the market with articles on family magic.  All of them will contradict each other."

        He smiled and moved over to stand behind her.  As she brushed out her damp hair he leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder.

        "You, my love, are remarkable.  Two days and it seems that you're going to get this entire situation cleaned up.  You even got our son to work with Miss Black.  Maybe I misspoke yesterday when I said a marriage was impossible."

        She set her brush down and turned.

        "Don't worry, I forgive you.  In fact, I may just reward you for admitting your mistake."

        He smiled, his love for her shining clearly in his eyes. 

        "I'm looking forward to it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written in an odd order. I actually wrote Narcissa's scene first before going back and filling in the other two. I think some people were expecting more from Snape, but remember in PoA? He summoned the authorities once he felt he had things in control. Granted, he won't ever forget what Skeeter did. Time is going to speed up again in the next chapter, since this little bit is wrapped up fairly well. The social dynamic is changing and Hermione and Draco are going to have to deal with that.
> 
> Enjoy!


	14. Ignorance isn't Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of the Triwizard Tournament.

            Hermione didn't see Malfoy at all the next day until she and Neville met up with him in the Entrance Hall that evening; where Snape was waiting to escort them to the Ministry.  

            A friendly auror, Frella Muntra, collected their memories for the records and then went through the memories with them, letting them explain their thought process at pivotal moments.

            The three of them were finished and safely back at Hogwarts before curfew and Malfoy hadn't spoken a word to either of them the entire trip.  He had asked Snape when Parkinson would be back, but that had yielded no true answer.  Apparently she would be back when she was back.

            The week passed as most weeks do, and Hermione had a pleasant walk around the lake with Viktor on Saturday.  And if her lips were a little swollen that evening, her friends were nice enough to not say anything, though Ron and Ginny sent her knowing smirks.  She made sure to remember to return the favor later.  

            It was partway through the next week that Parkinson returned.  And that evening she followed Neville into the empty classroom, sitting beside him to work on an essay.  No one said anything about it, and she didn't speak to anyone.  Just quietly did her work and left when Neville did.  This became a rather normal thing, which puzzled most people to no end.  At first Hermione thought it was odd, since it had been Malfoy that had caught Skeeter, but then she remembered that Malfoy had only been there because Parkinson had betrayed him.

            She likely wasn't feeling very comfortable or safe around him, and from what Hermione had read about regaining obliviated memories, feeling safe and comfortable was paramount.  There was only so much magic could do with the mind.

            The weeks passed and Parkinson continued to join them whenever Neville was there.  Malfoy even tagged along once, but left in a huff after some ridiculous argument he got into with Ron.  She hadn't bothered paying attention to it since no wands were drawn.

            By the time the second task occurred Hermione no longer found it odd to see Parkinson sitting next to Neville, studying but not speaking a word to anyone if she possibly could.

            Hermione didn't really enjoy being stuck asleep under an icy lake for over an hour, but she quite enjoyed being what Viktor would miss most.  She rarely saw him during the school week, but quite enjoyed spending part of the weekend with him. 

            Even if it did cut into study time.

            Another thing that cut into study time was the twins demanding her assistance during the Easter holiday.  It took four days to help them fix the snags in a potion they’d come up with.  She still couldn’t believe they’d thought powdered doxie wings were the right ingredient.

            It was around this time that the results of Skeeter’s trial were shared.  That nasty woman got five years in Azkaban and then another five years of probations afterwards.  There was also mention made of an unbreakable bracelet that prevented her from changing into her animagus form.

            Hermione wasn’t quite sure if being locked up for five years was proper punishment for erasing part of someone’s mind.  But she was fairly certain that Skeeter would never be taken seriously again.  So the chances of someone trying to force Hermione to lock her magic were practically nonexistent.

            Potions classes also changed after "The Great Bug Catch" as Luna dubbed it.  Snape would still sneer at Harry and her, but rarely said anything to them.  She thought it might be because she had helped Parkinson and Malfoy, but she was rapidly deciding there was a lot more to Snape than met the eye.  So it could be something she didn't have enough information to even consider.  Neville now sat with Parkinson, leaving Greengrass to partner with Hermione as Neville had always been her partner.

            Greengrass wasn't exactly the friendliest person, but she held up her end and the two of them always turned in potions that earned high marks. 

            Time moved onward and before she realized it the year was almost over and the third task was upon them.  She gave Viktor quite a few good luck kisses, but fully supported Cedric Diggory during the task.

            That night the entire castle was lit up like a Christmas tree and no house elf got any real work done.

            Exams were done and Hogwarts had won the Triwazard Tournament.

            The Hufflepuffs threw a party that was so loud and exciting that it drew all of the other houses down into the cellar.  When curfew arrived the teachers half-heartedly tried to send everyone to bed, but gave up after the twins got Hermione to help them make everyone's hair glow a nice Hufflepuff yellow.  

            No one was sleeping when their head looked like a miniature sun.

            Hermione had started the evening with Harry and Ginny, but the two of them had slipped off at one point, their hands intertwined.  Considering the fact that Ron and Luna were busy doing some rather outrageously ridiculous dances with a large group of celebrants she could just imagine that she’d have lots of alone time to read this summer.

            She wandered through the crowded Hogwarts halls.  Teachers were wandering about, keeping an eye on things.  Even the ghosts were helping out, all of them terribly glad that their place of haunting had won the tournament. 

            Every once in a while as she wandered she could hear a distant explosion, causing a ghost to come racing by in search of a teacher.  She could only assume that the twins were to blame.

            It was just after a particularly loud double explosion that Nearly-Headless Nick sped past, carefully holding his head, with Professor Sprout on his heels when she found Parkinson and Neville. 

            The two of them were holding bottles of butterbeer and standing off to the side of the Hufflepuff common room. 

            “I don’t think there will be anything quite like this at Hogwarts ever again,” Neville commented to her when she approached them.

            “Not until the next time Hogwarts wins the Triwizard Tournament at least,” Hermione answered.

            Neville shook his head and gestured at the mini-sun it had become, "No, they won’t have the Weasely Twins.  It just won’t be the same.”

            Hermione grinned, “But maybe the twins will be parents, and their children will be here.”

            Parkinson visibly shuddered at that and Neville grimaced, “Don’t you dare say those two will have children.  The world’s already in enough danger as it is.”

            She giggled.  She honestly could not imagine either of the twins settling down to become parents.

            They lapsed into silence for a moment, their eyes drifting over the mass of excited, celebratory students.  Hermione watched a pair of boys fall backwards as their cards exploded; making the girls they were playing with giggle madly.

            She smiled at that, she didn't really care for games, but she enjoyed watching others play them sometimes.

            Parkinson suddenly straightened up sharply, drawing Hermione's attention.  The Slytherin girl's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared.

            Before Neville or Hermione could say a word she stormed off, over to a Hufflepuff girl that looked to be about their age, though Hermione didn't recognize her.

            "Don't eat that!" Parkinson snapped.

            The girl jumped, dropping the candied apple she'd been about to take a bite of.  Neville frowned and walked over to pick it up.

            "Hey, this is-"

            Parkinson ignored him, all of her attention on the now trembling girl.

            "You idiot! Didn't your mother teach you not to eat any apple you can't see the color of?  And you're not a first year!  You should know the house elves only make candied apples at Halloween!"

            The girl's lips trembled, "What-what's wrong with apples?"

            Hermione suddenly realized what was wrong.

            "What!?! What's wrong with apples?!?  Are you a mud-". Pansy stopped and took a deep breath.  Visibly getting control of herself. "You're muggleborn, aren't you?  Did your prefects never warn you?"

            "W-w-warn me?  About apples?"

            "Yes."

            The girl shook her head and a small crowd was beginning to appear.  Including a couple of horrified Hufflepuff prefects. 

            "This isn't really an apple," Neville said.  He pulled out a small gardening knife and cut into the apple.  Then he pulled back part of the red candy.  The revealed fruit was not red, green, yellow, or any normal apple color.  Rather, it was an unnatural golden color.  If Neville hadn't easily cut into it she would've thought it was made of metal.

            There were quite a few gasps from the onlookers, but a number of them merely looked confused.  

            "Who gave this to you?" Parkinson asked.

            Tears were now falling down the girl's face. "I-I don't remember his name.  He-he's a Gryffindor," she sniffed and wiped the tears off her face, "in my year."

            Something drew Hermione's eye and she saw a handsome boy in Gryffindor colors start to hurry out of the Hufflepuff common room.

            He was holding a metal tray spotted with bits of red candy.

            She knew his name.  She knew every Gryffindors' name.

            "Mclaggen!"

            He gave her a panicked look over his shoulder and broke into a run, shoving people out of the way. 

            She didn't even think.  Her wand was in her hand and a spell was crossing her lips before he had taken more than two steps.  

            He fell to the floor, the tray making a terrible clang that echoed through the now silent common room.  His legs were locked together and his face was a mix of shock and disbelief. 

            She'd never dealt with him, but she knew he was terribly arrogant.  Likely he'd never even thought it was possible that he'd be caught.

            "I didn't know!  A couple Slytherins threatened me!  They made me pass them out!" He claimed as Parkinson advanced on him.

            "Oh, and who were these Slytherins?" Parkinson's voice had dropped to a quiet, deadly tone.  Her face was more animated than Hermione had seen it in months.  

            Since the Yule Ball.

            This was the Pansy Parkinson she had known for four years.  Except this time her nastiness was not targeted at an innocent.  

            "Did he hand out more?" A seventh-year Ravenclaw girl gasped. Hermione realized it was the Head Girl, Selena Carlson.

            "Hey!  Stephanie!  What's wrong with you?"  Hermione saw a blonde girl with a dopey expression on her face swaying in the crowd, a stick with an apple core on it lay at her feet.  Her brunette friend was looking at her with worry, a half-eaten candy apple in her hand.

            This got the Head Girl moving.

            "Who ate a candied apple?" she called out.  "We need to get them to the hospital wing."  When no one moved she raised two fingers to her mouth and let out a sharp whistle.  Making everyone jump and look at her.  Except for Parkinson, who kept her eyes and wand focused on Mclaggen. "NOW!  Anyone with a candy apple!  Get them to Madam Pomfrey!  Jacobs!"  She pointed at a curly haired Hufflepuff prefect, "Go find a professor, now!"

            Jacobs took off running, his curls flopping on his head.

            Seven more girls were found with candy apples.  Carlson got another couple of prefects to escort them to Madam Pomfrey, they were all in various stages of overdose.  One girl was so pliant she couldn't even stand.

            Hermione was utterly disgusted.

            She went to go stand next to Parkinson, who now had planted one of her feet on his chest to keep him from getting any ideas.

            Hermione took some pleasure in noting that Parkinson was wearing some sort of ankle boot with a very narrow, painful looking heel.

            Mclaggen shifted and then winced as Parkinson's boot dug more deeply into his chest.  

            Hermione still held her wand, and she kept her wrist relaxed, ready to aim it at anyone if they got any ideas.  She hadn't heard if Mclaggen had named any Slytherins, but if he had and it was true, she didn't want any of them to interfere.  

            Just then Professor Sprout came bustling in, her face red from running and she was covered in some sort of purple powder that looked a bit like soot.  Hermione began to wonder if it had really been the twins that set off the latest explosion.  It had done a wonderful job of drawing the attention of all the teachers and ghosts.

            It only took a moment for Professor Sprout to take in the boy pinned to the floor by Pansy and the shining gold apple in Neville's hand.  

            Her face grew thunderous.  Their normally jovial professor was almost unrecognizable.

            "Cormac Mclaggen, just WHERE did you get vetitus?  And WHAT were you planning?!?"

            Parkinson hurriedly jumped back as Professor Sprout reached down and grabbed Mclaggen's ear and yanked him to his feet.

            "They gave it to me!"

            "They?"

            "B-B-Barrow and Montague!" he yelped, trying to look at the floor.

            "Really." A cold voice said from behind Professor Sprout. Snape had arrived with McGonagall and Dumbledore.   

            "Y-yes, sir!  I just had to hand them out!"

            Snape opened his mouth to say something, but the Headmaster spoke first.

            "I do believe we should take this somewhere else.  Prefects, please see that everyone gets to bed.  Miss Carlson, please find Mr. Roberts and the two of you can oversee the prefects."  He looked over at Hermione, "Miss Black, if you could please stop the glowing.  The celebration is now over."

            She nodded and pulled out a small bottle of potion.  She uncorked it and poured the antidote for the glowing into it. Instantly everyone's hair returned to normal.  Snape was eyeing the potion curiously as she carefully slipped it back into her robes.  She didn't want him taking it to sample.  The twins would kill her if someone else got their hands on the protean potion they developed with her.  Especially since they went to such trouble to get it into the school's shampoo supply.

            The Hufflepuff common room quickly emptied as prefects got people moving, but Hermione wasn’t part of that.  Once again she was led to a professor’s office with Neville and Parkinson.  But this time they found themselves sitting at a table with a sullen Mclaggen as they waited on the aurors to arrive.  Professors Sprout and Snape had had a very insistent whispered conversation with Dumbledore, but at the end of it he agreed to summon them.  And then only Professor Dumbledore was left in the office as the others went to help the other heads of houses track down the Slytherins accused of involvement.

            While they waited, Professor Dumbledore approached them.  He had his hands folded and resting under his beard as he approached their table.  He completely ignored the plae-faced and sulking form of Mclaggen.  He also spared Parkinson only a glance.

            “Miss Black, Mr. Longbottom, I see you two are taking after your parents these days.  Righting wrongs and capturing wrongdoers.”

            Hermione almost replied, but Neville beat her to it.

            “Oh, no, Professor.  It wasn’t all us.  It was Pansy that noticed the oddity of the candied apple.  I merely cut it open, proving that she was true.  Then Hermione noticed Mclaggen with the empty tray covered with candy bits.  Then Pansy kept an eye on him while our Head Girl took over.”

            The Headmaster’s lips quirked up at the edges and a twinkle appeared in his eyes as he turned to focus them on Parkinson.

            “Ah, so it is Miss Parkinson we truly have to thank for this?”

            Hermione nodded, “Yes, sir.  No one else in the entire room thought the candy apples were odd.”

            “Indeed.”

            Parkinson suddenly sat up in her chair, making Mclaggen shoot her a terrified glance and clutch his chest, where her heel had pressed earlier.

            “Sir, why didn’t the mud- muggleborns know about the Forbidden Fruit?  My mother taught me before I ever left the house to visit a friend.”  There was a very intense look in Parkinson’s eyes and Hermione could tell that she was planning something.

            “Yes, Headmaster, even us boys learn about vetitus before we leave the home.  My mother also gave me a long list of dangerous things,” Neville said.

            Hermione found it amusing that Neville used the proper name for the fruit, while Parkinson used the common one.  Even she would never call it vetitus outside of potions or herbology.  Just the words forbidden fruit and all the dangers it implied were too ingrained in her.  Uncle Remus had taught all of them about it when they were children.  It was terribly unfair to muggleborns if they didn’t know things like this.

            “I’m afraid many things get overlooked when we bring muggleborns into our world.  Vetitus is such a dangerous plant, especially with the scent the blossoms put out that it’s only taught in NEWTs level Herbology.  And essence of Vetitus is only used in potions taught in NEWTs level Potions; such as Veritaserum and Amortentia.  There is just so much to teach, we hope they learn things from their friends and prefects,” Dumbledore looked a bit sad at this.

            Parkinson suddenly stood up, “Well, sir, I think it’s wrong.  Part of why muggleborns are disliked by many is because they seem ignorant of our customs here in the magical world.  Like Skeeter, she had no idea what her words could accomplish.  Or those girls tonight.  None of them were NEWT level students.  They were vulnerable,” Pain flashed across Pansy’s eyes at this moment and Hermione instantly knew why the girl was taking up the cause of a group she’d scorned for so long. “And, sir, they’re only vulnerable because you let them be so.  You bring them into our world and then just drop them.  You let them sink or swim, never realizing the danger this brings to all of us.  Something has to be done.  And if you won’t do it, sir.  Then I’ll speak to my father and we will.”

Hermione was impressed.  Even Mclaggen had stopped feeling sorry for himself enough to look at Pansy with a bit of awe in his expression.

            “And how do you plan to do that Miss Parkinson?  We’re forbidden from introducing muggleborns to our world before the summer of their eleventh year.  Outside of unusual circumstances of course,” he gestured at Hermione.

            Pansy’s eyes narrowed, “Forbidden?”

            “Yes, there’s an old piece of legislation from when the Statute was created.  It was to prevent a young muggleborn from unthinkingly telling all their friends about our world.  I’ve tried to have it revoked, but there is some rather heavy opposition to it.”

            Pansy’s eyes narrowed and she was thinking.  Hermione was also doing some thinking of her own.  She had an idea who would like to keep muggleborns ignorant.  It made them easier to hate.  And easier to defeat.

            But that didn’t mean there weren’t other options.

            “Professor Dumbledore, what about a pamphlet with some basic rules and knowledge?  It could go out with the letters?  Then a short seminar the first weekend after school starts.  Make it mandatory for everyone, and go over safety issues, such as the Forbidden Fruit, in great detail.  Offer a few more seminars on cultural things, but don’t make them required.  And don’t state it’s just for muggleborns, some half-bloods and purebloods don’t learn everything at home,” Hermione suggested. 

            Dumbledore thought about this for a moment.  “And who would teach these seminars?  All of our professors could easily handle the safety issues.  But the cultural customs are a bit more complex.  I’m afraid none of our professors are experts.”

            Neville shrugged, “Then bring in an expert.  Like my grandmother.”

            “Neville, we don’t want to scare them.  Your grandmother is terrifying,” Hermione stated.  “My Aunt Andy, Andromeda Black, would be a good choice.  Or Narcissa Malfoy.  They could even do it together.  Both of them grew up with the culture and both are aware of what’s truly important in it.  And Aunt Andy married a muggleborn, so she has a good idea of what needs to be taught.”

            “I do believe you three have the right idea.  I will think on it and find a suitable person to create a pamphlet and conduct the seminar.  Now, I do believe I hear the aurors.”

            Hermione wondered if Dumbledore had some secret connection to the castle because she didn’t hear a thing, and yet the aurors appeared in the doorway a moment later.  There was a much larger group this time.  There were six aurors, including Padfoot, Dora, and Mrs. Longbottom. 

            Padfoot took in the group at the table and then looked over at Dora and Mrs. Longbottom.

            “See, I told you.”

            Dora rolled her eyes, “Point.”

            And, despite the seriousness of what had occurred that night and the sullen faced Mclaggen sitting next to her, Hermione couldn’t help but smile.  Her dad was never going to grow up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doing time jumps are rather tricky, especially when quite a bit occurs in that time, but it's not important enough to be shown. And, much as I would love to show every tiny thing that occurs - like Hermione working with the twins, it's not necessary story wise. Plus I have no interest in writing a story so long and needlessly detailed that it bogs down in the middle. The next couple of chapters will be like this one as our characters get a bit older and relationships shift.
> 
> Also, a huge thank you to everyone that's been reviewing. I love reading what you think and I always respond.
> 
> Enjoy!


	15. A Year in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione ponders infinite space, Dumbledore muses on choices, and Draco finds somewhere to study.

            A pounding made the door shake as Harry called out, "C'mon, 'Mione!  We're going to be late!"

            Hermione shot a glare at the door and refused to respond.  They were not going to be late.  And, besides, it would be a nightmare getting there on time.  She was sure Mr. Diggory had invited every wizard and witch in all of the British Isles to celebrate his son winning the tournament.  

            It would also be the last time she got to see Viktor as he would be playing Quidditch for the test of the summer, and then she would be at Hogwarts. 

            She wasn't sure if she wanted to use more of the scar cream so she could wear short summer robes, or if she should wear her more standard robes.  The ones Aunt Andy had designed and charmed for her. 

            "Hermione!"

            "Hold your hippogriffs, Harry!  We're not going to be late!" she shouted back, never turning her eyes away from the two robes lying across her bed.

            After a moment she decided that much as she liked Viktor, this party wasn't worth one of the rare uses of the cream.  She didn't know how many times she could use it before it stopped working.  

            Better to save it.

            Her mind decided, it only took two minutes to throw on her robes, adjust them correctly, then slip on her ankle boots.  The heels on them gave her just enough height to be able to look Harry in the eyes, even if he was still a bit taller than her.

            The pounding started again on the door and she stormed across her room, opening it so fast that Harry almost fell forwards.

            "Honestly!  What do you care if we're late or on time?!?"

            "Ron heard that Cedric Diggory is going to arrange a pickup Quidditch game.  I'm sure he'll be one of the seekers.  I want to be the other one."

            She rolled her eyes, "You're the youngest seeker in a century.  You've never lost a game in your life.  Do you really think you won't be?"

            "But Diggory's girlfriend is Cho Chang, and she's the-"

            "Ravenclaw seeker, I know."

            "And then Viktor Krum will also be there.  And he played in the World Cup!  Malfoy is also supposed to be there, and he’s also a seeker! I need to be there early if I want to play.  You know I'm terrible at the other positions."

            "Harry, you're not terrible.  Ron's just a great keeper, no one scores against him.  Except Ginny, and she only manages half the time."

            "And what if I end up on a different team than Ron?  We need to get there early."

            Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, but went to grab her little knit bag.  If she got bored she could keep working on expanding it inside.  So far she had been able to manipulate the size extension charm, but had been unable to make it infinite without losing everything she put inside. 

            Maybe a locater spell...

            "Here 'Mione."

            She looked with semi-distaste at the broom Harry was holding out for her.  It was a very nice, safe broom.  But that didn't mean she enjoyed being on it.

            But they didn't have much choice.  They couldn't apparate and the floo network would be overloaded with people from farther away. And there was no way Harry would walk when he could fly.  There were no muggle houses between them and the Diggory's.  

            Padfoot had to work today so would miss most of the party, so they couldn't side-apparate with him either.  He wouldn’t arrive until dinner was being served.

            The flight took about ten minutes and Hermione was quite happy to set her feet on solid ground once more.

            As soon as they hit the ground Harry was off; his piercing green eyes searching the slowly growing crowd for any sign of Cedric Diggory.

            Hermione rolled her eyes and headed over to where she saw Mrs. Weasley.  She'd know where her broomstick could be stored.  She had no plans to play any Quidditch.

            "Now, Ginny, I don't want you to ruin your nice robes playing Quidditch today.  Leave it to the-"

            Ginny's arms were crossed and her expression was furious.  "Mum, if you say 'leave it to the boys' one more time I shall scream.  I am just as good as any of them.  And I brought robes to change into if I'm able to play.  So you can't say I'm going to ruin them."

            "Mum, she's fine.  Let Ginny play if she wants to.  She's an amazing flyer." Bill Weasley said.

            Hermione felt like she was intruding upon an argument that she had heard too many times before.  Mrs. Weasley just couldn't seem to understand that her one and only daughter was just as much 'one of the boys' as any of her sons.

            Mrs. Weasley threw up her hands in frustration and surrender, "Fine!  Play Quidditch!  But if you ruin your new robes...."

            "Don't worry, Mum.  I won't," Ginny promised, dropping her arms and smiling as she hurried off in the same direction Harry had taken.  

            "Oh, Hermione, nice to see you."

            Mrs. Weasley had noticed Hermione standing nearby.

            "Hello, Mrs. Weasley.  I don't mean to intrude, just want to know where to put this."  She held up her broomstick.

            Mrs. Weasley smiled, "I'll just take it for you.  Go and enjoy the party."  She gestured towards a distant figure on a broomstick, “I believe Ron is that way.”

            Hermione handed off the broom and Mrs. Weasley bustled away, leaving Hermione standing there with Bill.  She was a little confused as to why Mrs. Weasley thought she’d be looking for Ron.

            "Sorry about that, Hermione.  Mum has been in a tizzy ever since Percy's boss ended up in St. Mungos last week after a heart attack.  Percy has been working 16 hour days to cover the closure of the tournament and Mum is worried he's not taking care of himself.  So she's trying to mother hen us."

            Hermione smiled, "I'd believe that was the reason if I hadn't heard that same argument between them a million times over the years."

            He grinned at her, "Point."

            She nodded her head in acknowledgement and scanned the crowd to see who else she knew there.  Fun as Bill was they weren't very close.  

            "Hermione!  It ez zo lovely to zee a familiar face!"

            Hermione turned around to find the lovely Fleur Delacour dressed in a gauzy set of lavender robes.

            "Fleur, How are you?  We haven't spoken since-"

            "Zee end of zee second task.  You were a bit tied up with Viktor."

            Hermione felt her cheeks heat up at that. Especially with a Weasley nearby.   What one Weasley knew, they all knew.  A dangerous thing when she was spending quite a few days this summer working with the twins to fulfill her bargain with them.

            Fleur laughed, the sound tinkling like little bells.  "I forget, how young you are.  Now," her eyes moved past Hermione to look at Bill, "who ez this?"

            Hermione moved aside to introduce them and as she did so she realized that she'd need to find someone else to speak with.  The looks the two were exchanging were positively criminal.

            They barely even noticed when she said she was off to find Luna.  Really, she doubted the Lovegoods were here.  At least not yet.  They rarely came to events on time, at least when punctuality wasn’t an issue.

            She moved off through the crowd, seeing many people she recognized, but no one she wanted to engage in conversation.  After a bit she found herself on the edge of the garden.  She could see a group of people in the field nearby holding broomsticks.  She couldn't make out any details, but it looked like one of them was Viktor.  She found herself a place to sit under a massive oak tree and began working on the theoretical issues involved in creating infinite space inside a container in such a way that she could always locate an item placed within the space.  Her mind raced while the distant hum of conversation merged with the shouts and yells of the Quidditch players.

            Time passed, the sun shifted in the sky, and Hermione felt at peace with herself as she worked through problems.  

            She'd converse with others and be social later, when dinner was served.  This was a much better way to spend a beautiful, sunny day.

XXX

                Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump, Grand Sorcerer, and Headmaster of Hogwarts could think of quite a few ways he would rather spend a beautiful summer day than the task that now lay ahead of him.

                He’d never, not once, during his entire tenure expelled a student.

                He had spent many hours considering it in the past, but, ultimately, he had decided that expulsion would push most wizards and witches further into the darkness. 

                People like Hagrid were the exception, not the rule.

                It was for this reason that he had let Sirius escape true punishment for almost killing Severus. 

                He’d known that expelling Sirius and revealing Remus to be a werewolf would only bring misery and darkness.  He had failed to realize that the lack of punishment had only pushed Severus further into the darkness he’d been skirting.

                It was one of the few times he could honestly claim that his decision was not the truly right one.  Though he wasn’t sure there was a right decision in this case.

                Because Severus entering the darkness had brought about the death of the Potters.  But did Albus know that Severus would have turned away from evil earlier if his bullies had been punished?  Or would something else, something even worse, have happened?

                Would Voldemort have attacked the Longbottoms?  Would Alice and Neville now lie beside Frank?  Would the world now be under Voldemort’s power?  He had chosen to mark Harry as his equal.  Was anyone else capable of being his equal?

                Albus shook his head and reached out to pick up his eagle feather quill.  He twirled it in his fingers, wondering how many mistakes he had made over the years.  Mistakes that had caused him to slowly lose the control he’d always prided himself in having. 

            He’d failed when the Potters chose Pettigrew to be the Secret Keeper.  He’d failed when he’d allowed Sirius to take Harry away from his blood relatives.  He’d only been saved by pure chance.  Albus still wasn’t sure how the blood wards were still active.  Even now he had Arabella Figg doing some genealogy for him to discover Lily Potter née Evans’ ancestors.  The reason had to lie there, but as of yet he had no proof.

            He’d failed so many times, but he had failed because he wasn’t a god.  He was merely a man.  A man that made mistakes.  A man that, most importantly, understood that people always had a choice.

            Sirius had chosen to play a deadly trick on Severus.  He’d chosen to tease and bully Severus for years.  He’d chosen to let Peter Pettigrew be the Secret Keeper for the Potters.  He’d chosen to raise two children he had no true responsibility for.  He’d chosen to become an auror and save as many people as he could.

                He had chosen to change and redeem himself.  He’d chosen to become a better person.

                Severus had chosen to turn away from his childhood friend.  He’d chosen to make new, darker friends.  He’d chosen to take the Dark Mark.  He’d chosen to tell Voldemort the prophecy.  He’d chosen to betray Voldemort to save his childhood friend.  He’d chosen to swear to protect his friend’s orphaned son.

                He had also chosen to change and redeem himself.  He’d become, if not a better person, a person that did better things.

                And Albus’ refusal to expel any student had given them this chance.

                And that was why he had stood firm in front of the Wizengamot and refused to expel Cormac Mclaggen. 

                Robeus Barrow and Graham Montague had been outside of his control.  They were both of age and had completed their NEWTs.  They had made choices that would bring them great consequences. 

                But it was not the same with Cormac.  He was only fifteen and had been persuaded through a mixture of blackmail, lies, and bribery to pass out the vitius.  He had believed they were regular apples.  That the candy coating contained a minor love potion.  A much less grevious crime than giving out vitius.

                Barrow and Montague had not truly believed that Cormac would give them away.  They hadn’t thought he’d willingly submit his memories and take Veritaserum.

                More fools they.

                And so Albus had argued to give Cormac a chance.  He’d refused to expel the boy.  And if he didn’t expel him, they couldn’t send him to Azkaban. 

                There was no forgiveness for giving pure, raw vitius to someone. 

                It not only made the mind highly susceptible, but it also created dependency.  The dreams brought on by the use of vitius were supposed to be some of the most beautiful things on this world.

                The girls that had eaten the fruit were in for a long, slow and painful recovery.  Pomona only had one vitius tree, but she was considering sending it away until the girls fully recovered.  Especially as one of them would be taking NEWT level Herbology.

                Still, he’d argued, determined to give Cormac the same chance he’d given so many other students.

                Surprisingly, he had found help in an unexpected place.

                Roy Parkinson and Lucius Malfoy had stood up and pled for clemency for the boy.  Stating that he should have a chance to change before losing all of his chances at a future.

                Augusta Longbottom had demanded a way to prove the boy changed.  To show a way to make the boy change.

                And then, Sirius Black, who had never once spoken in the Wizengamot after claiming his family’s seat, stood and addressed the assemblage; offering a solution that was deemed acceptable.

                Still, it pained Albus to sign the document before him. 

                He was not expelling Cormac Mclaggen, he was merely suspending him from Hogwarts for a year. 

                In that time the boy would work five days a week at St. Mungos, doing volunteer work.  During the remaining two days he would be at the Ministry of Magic, under the supervision of an auror.  What the auror would be making him do was yet to be decided.  But there had been a gleam in Sirius’ eye that made Albus sure that he had something in mind.

                After a year, the boy’s situation would once again be evaluated.  If he had changed he would be allowed to return to Hogwarts and take his NEWT classes. 

            If he hadn’t changed, he would be expelled.

            All Albus had to do was sign the suspension form lying before him.  That was it.  One small signature and Cormac Mclaggen would have a chance to change.  A chance to make better choices.

            Letting out a heavy sigh he dipped the eagle quill in his inkpot and signed the form.

            Hopefully he was right this time.  And this wasn’t one more mistake.

XXX

                Summer sped by for Hermione.  She spent most of it alone, though that had been true for many summers. 

                Ron, Ginny, and Harry were almost always on their broomsticks, soaring through the air, throwing balls around and ending their days windswept and dusty.

                Luna would be around for days, feeding her fish, before randomly disappearing for a week or so with her father.  The two of them off on some strange adventure that only made sense to them.  Whenever she returned Ron would abandon his broomstick for a few days, and spend time sitting by the creek, idly building some sort of fish feeder.

                Harry and Ginny would be very hard to find during these few days; earning much teasing from the twins. 

                Hermione bit her tongue, after all, they’d said nothing after her long walks with Viktor.

                She visited Neville once, only to find Pansy there.  The two of them were out in his private greenhouse.  He was up to his elbows in soil and she was sitting on a chair nearby, working on summer homework. 

            Hermione still wasn’t sure what was going on between the two of them. 

            They didn’t act like Ron and Luna or Harry and Ginny.  There were no side glances, goofy smiles, or embarrassed blushes.  Merely a quiet peacefulness that felt like it had been there forever. 

            It was even present at Malfoy’s birthday party.

            Neville was invited this year, but he and Pansy spent most of the time near each other. 

            Hermione found herself wondering if Narcissa was trying to pair Pansy off with Neville, so that Hermione would have no competition for Malfoy.  A rather smart move, except that Hermione had no interest at all in Malfoy. 

            Even if he had gotten taller.

            Malfoy spoke some with Pansy, there was something different between them.  From what Hermione could see the trust and camaraderie that had once existed was strained, possibly even broken. 

            There was something sad in Malfoy’s grey eyes as he watched Pansy and Neville together.

            It made Hermione wonder.

            At Harry’s birthday Malfoy actually participated somewhat.  When Ron proposed a pickup game of Quidditch Malfoy even volunteered to play a seeker.  When he discovered they didn’t have enough people to play with seekers he chose to play chaser, on the opposite team from Harry.

            Hermione sat the game out with Luna.  The two of them watched a bit, but mostly Hermione got Luna interested in helping her solve the issue of locating something once it was placed in an infinite space.

            She wasn’t quite sure who won the Quidditch game, as all of the players looked happy at the end, but she had figured out the last few issues with her bag.  Luna just looked at things in a way that Hermione couldn’t, saving Hermione hours of work.

            She also spent a bit of time working with the twins and helping them develop a few more potions that they’d found themselves unable to complete for one reason or another.

            By the end of the summer they were offering her a share in future profits if she continued to assist them.  When she’d asked them how they were planning to fund more projects they sat her down and explained their business plan.  Including how Cedric Diggory had been so impressed with what they did at the celebration after the Triwizard Tournament that he’d offered to help fund them with his winnings for a share of future profits.

            She’d agreed with the promise that she had the rights to use anything they worked on together, as long as she let them sell it.

            Before she knew it there was nip in the evening air and they were once again packing up their trunks.  Their Hogwarts letters had appeared, and with them shiny prefect badges for Hermione and Neville.  Ron and Harry had been a bit disappointed, but had ultimately decided that no prefect duties meant more free time.

            The ride back to Hogwarts was uneventful.  Malfoy did show up, but he merely visited with Pansy some before leaving. 

            Ron entertained himself during Malfoy’s visit by making faces at Crabbe and Goyle, trying to see if they had any expression besides ‘stupid’, making Ginny snicker and Hermione roll her eyes.

            The year proved to be a hard one, but Hermione had suspected that it would be.  Their OWLs were at the end of the year. 

            Professor Moody had returned to retirement at the end of the previous year.  He’d been replaced by a French witch, Professor Roux.  She knew the material well, but was a bit flighty and easily angered, causing her to rival Snape in numbers of detentions given.

            Her detentions were never bad, though.  She was usually over her anger by then and so spent the time teaching more spells and defensive maneuvers.  Hermione tagged along after Harry got detention once and found herself in the midst of a great lesson on recognizing an opponent’s intentions through their body movements.

            By mid-November Professor Roux was no longer holding detentions.  Rather, she was conducting advanced defense classes to an ever growing number of upper-level students.

            Aunt Andy and Narcissa came to the school on quite a few weekends and gave seminars on magical culture and customs.  A few were mandatory for all students, but they covered things related to dangers only found in the magical world. 

            Hermione took note of every face that seemed a bit too unhappy with this change in the curriculum.  Most of them were Slytherin boys, but she saw one or two Ravenclaws that didn’t look too pleased.

            Christmas came and went, Hermione loved spending time once again with Padfoot.  He was a bit more serious over the holiday season than he had been in the summer.  Hermione knew that sometimes his position as an auror caused him to feel down.  He never said anything to her or Harry, but they could see the stress it put on him. 

            The years it added to his face. 

            That didn’t stop Harry from telling Professor McGonagall that he planned to be an auror after he finished school.  Hermione on the other hand, wasn’t sure yet what she wanted.  She had a list, an ever growing list, of things to work on.  But she wasn’t yet sure how best to accomplish this list.  She thought being the Minister of Magic might do it, but she couldn’t list that as her career choice.  To state her final intentions now would only give others the chance to put walls in her way.

            So she said she wanted to enter the ministry and work with people.  Do something that made the wizarding world a better place.  But she wanted to continue as many classes as possible at NEWT level, to keep her options open.

            As the snow disappeared and a new, sweet warmth appeared in the air she buckled down and devoted herself to studying.  Once again she claimed that long-deserted classroom as her place of study.  Her friends joined her sometimes, but none of them had the same desire to study that she did. 

            Towards the end of April they had a Hogsmeade day and all of her friends slipped off to refill their candy stashes, but Hermione took herself off to her classroom. 

            She had studying to do, candy could wait.

            Plus, she was certain that they had separated into couples so they could quietly snog down deserted alleys. 

            Well, except for Neville and Pansy.  They didn’t seem to be that interested in snogging.  At least she’d never caught them in a broom cupboard, like she’d caught Harry and Ginny once.

            Merlin, had that been embarrassing.

            She was deep into revising when the she felt the air shift as the door swung open.

            Her wand was in her hand and aimed at the door before she’d even looked up.

            “Black, really?  I thought we’d gotten past aiming wands at each other.”

            Malfoy’s characteristic drawl had her rolling her eyes as she lowered her wand.

            “Malfoy, what are you doing here?”

            He held up his overflowing bag, “I need to study.  The first and second years have decided that since it’s a Hogsmeade weekend they can play the loudest games possible in the common room.”

            “Then why don’t you study in the library?  Madam Pince never allows noise.”

            He strolled over and deposited his bag on a desk a few feet away from her.

            “She’s a bit put out at me.  Caught Crabbe eating some sort of cream pie near her precious books, and of course blames me for it.  Honestly, as if I can control what he stuffs his face with.”

            “What makes you think you’re welcome here?”

            “Pansy comes here and I’m Pansy’s friend.  Plus, you’re my cousin.  Right?” he flashed her a smile that made her breath catch.

            He settled himself into a chair and began pulling out his study materials. 

            She watched him for a moment before giving herself a shake and rolling her eyes. 

            Just what was she staring at?  He was Draco Lucius Malfoy.  Her cousin.  The boy that had once called her a mudblood.  He did NOT have a breath-catching smile.

            No, simply not.

            “Fine, stay then.”

            “I planned on it.”

            She scowled and slipped her wand back into her sleeve before picking up her quill.  Then she purposefully ignored him and returned to revising.

            She was in the middle of memorizing just what were the thirty-six uses of beetle wings when it hit her.  Her breath caught and her quill dropped to the table as her entire body shook.

            Harry.

            She had to get to Harry.

            Something was wrong.

            Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a huge jump here, but, as you can likely guess, we'll be slowing down again for a few chapters. No need for Umbridge, so I stole an OC I've used in some Ouran fics to fill in the DADA professor. And, yes, I did just end on a cliffhanger. Don't think I've done that before in this fic. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	16. The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione races off to rescue Harry.

            The sudden sound of a desk being shoved across the floor made Draco's hand slip; creating a huge splotch of ink in the middle of the transfiguration notes he'd been writing.

            He scowled and looked up, opening his mouth to yell at Black.

            But as soon as he saw her he knew something was terribly, horribly wrong.

            There was such a look of pure, unbridled terror on her face.  Before he could ask what was wrong she was on her feet and racing out of the classroom, her wand appearing in her hand as she flew past him.

            He didn't stop to think about it. 

            He followed her.

            Though as he slipped through the doorway and lifted his robes to accommodate his longer stride he found himself wondering what his life had come to, chasing Black through the corridors of Hogwarts. 

            If he hadn't had such long legs he didn't think he could have kept up with her.  She was moving so fast, her hair had fallen out of its usual bun, trailing behind her like a long, shimmery cape.

            "Black!  Stop!  What's going on?!?"

            She ignored him as she tore through an archway, racing down a circular staircase.

            They were on the other side of the castle, somewhere on the fifth floor, when Black let out a pained gasp and fell to the ground, clutching her left forearm.

            He skidded to a halt and fell to his knees beside her.  He felt her wand digging into his knee, but he ignored it.

            "Black?  What's wrong?  What's going on?"  He reached out, hands shaking, trying to see if she was injured.  

            She didn't respond, her face frighteningly pale under her tangled curtain of hair.

            "Black?  BLACK!"

            Still no response, he moved her right hand and looked at her arm, but everything looked normal on her black sleeve.

            He was very confused, and her refusal to answer made him wonder about her sanity.  Though, much as Black annoyed him, he'd always thought she had a sound mind.

            Her lips moved and he barely heard her whisper, "Drown, please drown," repeatedly.

            He started to push her sleeve up, to see what was wrong.

            Her right hand was suddenly gripping his wrist and she was shoving herself away from him.  He looked up at her, meeting her soft brown eyes with his own steely grey ones.

            She gasped, her eyes wide with fear, viewing something he couldn’t.

            “Black?”

            Her breathing quickened and her hands began shaking as she felt around on the floor, searching for her wand. 

            He moved his knee and handed it to her, but didn’t let go as she took it.

            “Black, answer me!”

            She just tugged on the wand, as if trying to pull a cranky mandrake out of its pot. 

            “Hermione!” He gave in and used her given name.  It twisted across his tongue in a rather unsettling way.

            She jerked and looked up at him, meeting his eyes once again; but this time she actually saw him.

            “He’s back.”

            “What do you mean?  Who’s back?”

            She just yanked her wand out of his hand and hopped to her feet.  There was a panicked, yet fierce note in her voice as she spoke, “He’s got Harry and he’s back.  We need to go, NOW.”

            She took off running, but this time she headed up.

            Draco was still just as confused as before, but that didn’t stop him from following Black.  He wanted, no, he needed, to find out what was going on.

XXX

            Harry’s vision swam in front of him as he watched the horrible figure emerge from the cauldron before him.  Rain coated his glasses, making the figure nothing more than a pale blob, but he still knew who it was.

            He knew exactly who it was.

            And he was terrified.

            His heart was beating like a drum in his chest and there was a rushing in his ears as a cold voice said, “Robe me.”

            “Yes, master.  Of course.”

            The strange man that had snatched Harry from the alley he’d been snogging Ginny in carefully picked up the black robes with his one remaining hand.  He then slipped them over his master’s head, grinning madly the entire time.  Ignoring the blood seeping from his stump.

            Ginny…he hoped she was alright.  He’d last seen her bobbing ponytail as he’d followed her towards the street. 

            Please, please let her be alright.

            “Barty, hold out your arm,” Voldemort said as the robes fell into place.

            The strange man, Barty, held out his left arm.  Voldemort pushed up the sleeve, revealing the twisting snake and skull that made up the Dark Mark.  Harry had only ever seen it in old newspaper clippings Padfoot kept stuffed in a box in the attic.

            “It is back,” he said softly, “they will all have noticed it…and now, we shall see…now we shall know…”

            He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Barty’s arm.

            Harry’s scar immediately erupted with pain.  He gasped and pushed back at the pain.  Using the mind exercises Professor Roux had taught them during a ‘detention’.  Instantly the pain lessoned, but his head began to swim.  He knew it had to do with the blood loss.  He could feel his wrist dangling strangely as blood mixed with rainwater at his feet.

            Barty had cut him deeply when taking blood.  Too deeply.

            He’d felt his mind link up with Hermione’s.  He’d felt her presence.  He knew it.  He’d been with her too many times over the years, when her dreams took her to places he couldn’t truly understand.  Never once had he been on the receiving end, not really.  Maybe during the incident with the Philosopher’s Stone, but he’d been in too much pain to know what was going on.

            Hermione had seen what he had seen. 

            She was smart enough to figure it out.  To see the angel next to him; the regularly placed stones.  She’d know it was a cemetery.

            Maybe…maybe they could find him.

            Dimly he realized Voldmort was speaking.  Something about a house up on a hill, but he couldn’t pay attention. 

            He felt cold.

            So cold.

            His cheek began to sting and he heard the distant sound of a slap; he rolled his head to the side, too tired to look up.  From the corner of his eye he could see the blood red eyes of Voldemort blazing down at him.

            “Harry Potter! Pay attention!”

            Harry couldn’t help it, he snorted in laughter, jostling his arm and making him gasp as the blood began to flow even faster.

            “What…”

            Voldemort grabbed Harry’s arm and held it up so he could see it in the dim glow of Barty’s wand.  Harry felt the world grow dark as pain overcome him.  Briefly he felt Hermione brush him, and together they looked into the angry red eyes of a man everyone thought was dead.  And then, sweet, warm darkness swallowed him up.

XXX

            Black skidded to a halt outside a portrait of a fat lady. 

            “Codswallop.”

            The portrait sent Draco a strange look, but swung open to reveal a cheerful little common room.  For half a moment he felt a little envious of the Gryffindors.  Being up so high, able to look out over the grounds…

            His thoughts were abruptly stopped as Hermione grabbed his arm and yanked him through the portrait hole.

            She pulled him through the common room, earning quite a few glances from the first and second years there, but none of them dared to question two prefects - even if one of them was in the wrong house.

            She pulled him up a spiral staircase and into a comfortable room outfitted with five beds.  He stood awkwardly in the doorway, wondering just how much his world had changed that Hermione Black had pulled him into Gryffindor Tower.

            That she seemed to be relying on him for help.

            She dug around in two trunks and came out holding two broomsticks.  One was a Nimbus 2000 and looked well-used, the other was a fairly new Firebolt.

            “Both brooms have beaten you to the snitch, they’re fast.  Just what we need,” she said as she panted, trying to catch her breath.

            “Wait, brooms, isn’t Potter in Hogsmeade?”

            “No, didn’t you-” she froze and her eyes glazed over again, but only for a moment.

            “Black?”

            She gave her head a shake, worry filling her face as she handed him the brooms before sweeping her hair back into a ponytail.  “Look, Malfoy, I will do this alone, but I need help and there’s no time to deal with adult politics.  No one would believe me anyway.  Harry was taken, by a Death Eater.  Voldemort is back.”

            Draco shook his head in disbelief, “No, he’s gone.  Father assured me.”

            “Your father was mistaken.  He tied himself to this world.  I can’t explain how, but he did it.  He’s not gone, and he won’t be until we figure out what was missed.”

            “That makes no sense!”

            She gave a snort of frustration and yanked the Firebolt out of his hand.  “Look, Malfoy, I don’t have time to explain.  Harry is DYING.  Now, I know you’re not evil.  Maybe I thought that once, but I know you better now.  I also know your mother and I can’t see her wanting Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, to die.  Even if it means directly confronting Lord Voldemort.  So, are you going to help me or not?”

            Draco felt torn.  Black was family, and he’d always been told that you did everything for family.  Potter was her family, much as the prat annoyed him.  And that meant Potter was his family, too.  In a way he didn’t really want to think about.

            His mother would tell him to go. 

            But his father…

            He didn’t know what his father would want.

            And He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…the Dark Lord…to stand against him….

            He couldn’t.

            He couldn’t do it.

            He wasn’t a hero.

            He thrust the Nimbus into her hands, “I-I’m sorry.  I can’t.”

            She closed her eyes, hiding whatever was shining there, and took a deep breath, “Fine.  Go find Dumbledore.  Tell him what happened.”

            She opened her eyes and met his.  Her eyes were no longer soft - they glittered with a sharp starkness. “Can you do that?”

            He gulped and nodded, unable to find words to speak that wouldn’t reveal how wrong he knew his decision was.  She grabbed a belt out of one of trunks and transfigured it into a harness, then she fixed the Nimbus to her back.  He watched as she moved to the window and pushed it open.  She stood there for half a second, frozen, and he felt the sudden urge to call out, to stop her.

            But then she was gone, racing off on Harry Potter’s Firebolt.

            Draco turned and ran back out of Gryffindor Tower.

XXX

            Ginny’s lungs were screaming as she sprinted up the road between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. 

            Stupid, stupid adults!

            No one had believed her when she said Harry had disappeared.  They’d assumed she had fought with her boyfriend and he’d gone off on his own or headed back to Hogwarts.

            But they didn’t know Harry like she did.  He wouldn’t do that.  Not that they’d fought.  No, they’d been doing the exact opposite.

            And then she hadn’t been able to find Ron or Luna.  They were likely off sitting by some bubbling brook looking for Nargles or Squadges or some such nonsense.  And Neville and Pansy had already left to go back to Hogwarts.

            Professor Dumbledore would believe her.  Merlin, even Snape would believe her!  They knew that there were still people out there that wanted to harm Harry.

            She rounded a bend in the road and caught sight of a figure on a broom right above her, racing off to the south. 

            She knew broomsticks, and she knew how people rode them.

            “HERMIONE!!!”

            The broom slowed and turned, coming closer until Hermione made a clumsy landing next to her.

            “Ginny!  Harry, he’s been-“

            “I know!”

            Ginny reached over and unhooked Ron’s Nimbus from Hermione’s back.  She threw her leg over it and looked at the older girl.

            "I assume you know where he is?  You two and your weird sensing thing?”

            Hermione gave a quick nod and then pushed off the ground.  Ginny was in the air an instant after her.  Luckily Padfoot had spent so many hours tutoring Hermione on flying, because flying over the Scottish countryside, staying low enough to avoid muggles, was extremely difficult.

            Ginny’s hands were completely numb by the time the landscape became softer, the hills more rolling.  Not too long after that the clouds moved in and soon they were battling their way through piercing needles of icy rain.

            Hermione never wavered.

            It was as if some invisible compass directed her onwards.  And Ginny supposed that was true.  Harry had told her some about the weird connection between himself and his foster sister.  How he’d always known when Hermione was having flashbacks or nightmares, ever since they were young.  Hermione had only experienced it when Harry had been attacked by Quirrell; before Ginny had started at Hogwarts.

            Whatever it was only occurred when one was in danger or great pain.  And for Hermione to sense Harry so clearly…

            Ginny was terrified of what they would find.

            Not too much later Hermione took a sudden dive downwards.  Ginny followed, spiraling to slow her descent, mildly surprised when Hermione did the same. 

            The two girls hit the muddy ground and went sprawling, their frozen limbs refusing to function.  They laid there for a moment, and then Hermione managed to unclasp her broom and cast a warming charm over the two of them.

            “There, the trace should let them know where we are,” Hermione said.

            Ginny snorted and pulled her own stiff fingers off of the Nimbus.  “Are you so sure they’re looking for us?”

            “Yes, I sent Malfoy to tell Dumbledore.”

            Ginny looked over at Hermione in surprise and rolled over, pushing herself up onto all fours in preparation of putting weight on her frozen feet.

            “You really think Malfoy would tell Dumbledore?  It was likely Death Eater scum that took Harry.”

            Hermione pushed herself into a sitting position and looked at Ginny, “Malfoy is family, even if we end up on different sides.  If he says he'll do something, he'll do it. And it wasn’t just Death Eater scum.  It’s Voldemort.  He’s back."  

            Ginny was halfway onto her feet when Hermione spoke.  She toppled back to the ground in shock.

            “He-he’s BACK?!?”

            Hermione nodded grimly, “And he’s not too far away.  I can feel Harry close by.  We need to hurry.”

            “But the adults...”

            Hermione stood up, holding onto a nearby tree.  “I don’t think we have time to wait for them.  Harry feels very, very weak.  I don’t know what they’ve done to him.  But it’s-“

            She abruptly fell to the ground and began writhing in pain, her hands clasped over her mouth to stop from screaming.

            That didn’t stop Ginny from hearing distant screams over the constant pitter-patter of raindrops on leaves.

            She shoved herself to her feet and yanked out her wand - eyes scanning the trees around them.  There was nothing she could do to stop Hermione's pain.  When the screaming stopped and Hermione was lying still beside the two broomsticks Ginny reached down and grabbed her friend’s arm, pulling her to her feet.

            “Hermione.  Block him.  Put up your shields.  I know Professor Roux taught occlumancy during ‘detention’.  We’re here.  You don’t need the connection to find him.  And I can’t have you falling to the ground every time they torture him.”

            Tears mingled with rain on Hermione’s face, “But…he’ll be alone.”

            Ginny gave the older girl a rough shake, “Hermione Granger Black, wake up!  He’s not alone!  He knows we’re coming, doesn’t he?”

            Hermione took a deep, shuddery breath and nodded.

            “Good, now let’s go.”

            Ginny grabbed the Firebolt this time, and handed the Nimbus to Hermione before moving through the small copse of trees, towards where the scream had originated from.

            It was slow going, neither of them wanted to create a light, for fear of being seen.

            A couple times Hermione gave sharp gasp, just before the screams started again.  After the first time Ginny took her friend’s hand, offering what little comfort she could as they made their way over tree roots.  

            Abruptly the trees came to an end.  Dimly they could make out a low stone wall before them, an small wrought iron gate illuminated by a group of glowing wands not more than twenty feet from them.  

            The two girls crouched down and moved to the wall, peering through the gate.

            There were a number of robed and masked people encircling a tall, thin figure.

            It was a high, cold voice that spoke, cutting through the sound of the rain.

            "That hurt, didn’t it Harry?  You don’t want me to do that again, do you?"

            There was a pause, but no one spoke over the sound of the rain.

            “You are but a boy that has had pure luck on his side.  Taken so easily off the streets of Hogsmeade.  Weakened so much by a simple cut.  Now, I asked you whether you want me to do that again.” Voldemort said more softly this time.  His voice just barely heard from Ginny’s hiding place.  “Answer me!  Imperio!"

            They stood their frozen, waiting for Harry to respond.  Not sure what they would do, but knowing they needed the Death Eaters to be in confusion if they were to have a chance of rescuing Harry.

            Abruptly a rough, familiar voice yell out, "I won’t!"

            “You won’t?  Why, Harry, obedience is a virtue, and I must teach you it before you die.  Perhaps some more pain?”

            Ginny winced and gripped her wand tightly in one hand, her broom in the other.  She looked over at Hermione to see her mounting her own broom, still in a crouch.

            “We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry.”

            Hide-and-seek?  Harry must have run and hid.

            She glanced over at the older girl and locked eyes with Hermione.  The two of them then pushed off the ground and rose slowly.  They had no time to make a plan, all they could do was their best to delay events until help arrived.  If Hermione was right in her belief that Malfoy would tell Dumbledore. 

            Soon as they were in the air they froze, hovering ten feet in the air.

            “ _Expelliarmus_!”

            “ _Avada Kedavra_!”

            The entire graveyard lit up as two streams of light poured from Harry and Lord Voldemort's wands.  One red and one green. They met in the middle and a narrow beam of golden light connected the two wands. 

            As Ginny watched, frozen, Harry and Voldemort were lifted off the ground.  They floated away from the gravestones and landed in a grassy area even farther form where Ginny and Hermione were hovering.

            The Death Eaters began shouting and hurrying to follow – to reform the circle.

            Ginny made out a great shape slithering along the ground and felt her skin crawl.

            As the two girls watched the light changed, becoming a web that formed a dome over the two combatants.

            The Death Eaters took a step forwards, towards Harry, and Ginny raised her wand, but Voldemort's voice stopped them.

            "No!  The boy is mine!"

            Ginny glanced over at Hermione to see her staring intently at what was occurring.  Distantly they heard whispers, but could make nothing out.  Ginny urged her broom up higher and forwards, Hermione following her.

            When they were almost directly above the Death Eaters Ginny leaned over to whisper to Hermione.

            “When this, whatever it is, ends, I’ll swoop down and grab him.  Can you cover us?”

            Hermione nodded, her hands bone white on her wand.

            Ginny settled her gaze on the golden dome, looking for any sign that it would break.  Through the shimmery curtain of light she could make out additional figures.  There was more than just Harry and Voldemort in their now, but she had no idea how they had gotten there.  Nor could she do anything about it.  She wasn’t the most studious witch, but even she knew if it looked like a shield, it was probably a shield.

            Then there was a yell of, “NOW!” and the dome of light broke.  There was a rush of something towards Voldemort, but Ginny paid it no mind.  She aimed the Firebolt downwards and pushed it to go as fast as it could.  She narrowed her eyes as the wind bit at her face.  Her entire focus was on her target, sure in the knowledge that Hermione would do all she could to shield her.  She almost crashed into Harry, but at the last possible moment she leveled out, reaching down with her right hand. 

            There was a loud ‘SMACK’ as their hands collided, she felt the impact through her bones.  With a great heave she yanked him upwards.  Her muscles screamed in pain as he hung from her arm.  But then, far enough up, she leveled out.  Harry took the chance to swing himself up on the broom behind her.  His hands were shaking as they wrapped themselves around her waist.  His wand jabbing her in the stomach.

            All the while she heard spells fizzle and crash against the shield Hermione had erected around them.  She glanced over to see Hermione beside them, casting spells and throwing up shields as needed.  A jet of green light caught Ginny’s eye and she rolled to the side.  Harry clung tightly to her, both of then using every trick in their quidditch bag to stay on the broom.

            “Let’s go!”  Ginny shouted.

            The three of them raced away from the graveyard, not entirely sure where they were flying, but knowing they had to get away. 

            Ginny could tell that Hermione was beginning to fall behind them, her lack of ease with a broom, as well as her spell-casting, was causing her to slow down. 

            “Hermione!  She needs help!” Harry shouted in her ear.

            Ginny felt Harry unwrap his right arm from around her waist and twist to look behind them.

            “ _Stupefy!”_ he called out.

            Another jet of green light came streaming past them and Ginny made a few erratic swerves, dodging more streams of red and green lights, as well as a nasty looking orange one.

            Hermione let out a sudden scream, and Ginny spun her head around, almost stopping in mid-air, to see Hermione let go of the broom and clutch her side in pain.  In response her broom tilted and she plummeted towards the ground.

            “HERMIONE!!!”

            Ginny didn’t know if it was her scream or Harry’s that clashed with the sudden sound of thunder booming in the distance.

            She yanked on the broom and headed straight down, praying that she could reach Hermione in time. 

            She pushed down on the broom handle, pulling herself as close to the broomstick as possible, Harry’s weight was pushing against her, urging her down, but also holding her back, their robes catching the wind.  Both of them were urging the faithful Firebolt to just go a little bit faster.  Ginny’s heart was in her throat as she pulled beside Hermione, who was bent in two, screaming silently and clawing at her stomach.  She reached out one hand to grab the front of the Nimbus, but her hand slipped on the wet wood.  She reached out again and only succeeded in pushing Hermione farther away.  She cursed under her breath and pushed harder.  There was almost no time left.

            Suddenly her broom gave a lurch and Harry was no longer behind her.  She felt herself being pushed backwards as he threw himself at Hermione. 

            Miraculously he landed on the back of the broom, immediately reaching around and pulling the broom level just before it hit the ground.  A moment later they tumbled off, Harry holding onto Hermione’s writhing form as they rolled across the ground.

            Ginny pulled herself out of her own dive just in time, her toes brushing the grass.

            She quickly landed on the ground, keeping a hand on her wand and looking around for any Death Eaters.  They were now on the other side of the copse of trees, about where she and Hermione had first landed not too long ago.

            Harry was crouched over a thrashing Hermione, the two of them were rapidly pulling her robes out of the way.  Trying to reach where the spell had affected.  Ginny wanted to help, but she refused to lower her guard.  The Death Eaters were still out there, and they’d have seen them fall.

            CRACK.

            She jumped and spun around, raising her wand, a spell on the tip of her tongue.

            But it was never cast.

            The aurors had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for those of you that didn't catch it, Bill mentioned in the last chapter that Percy's boss had a heart attack. Now, if you remember who Percy's boss was in canon, you'd know the implications of it. So, yes, Moldy Voldy is back. He's just missing a few key parts of his soul he doesn't quite realize are gone yet. And I'm sure most of you wanted Draco to race off with Hermione to save Harry, but he's not quite there yet. 
> 
> And yes, it is kind of another cliffhanger.
> 
> Enjoy!


	17. Changing of the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is heard by many.

           She turned to cast a spell, twisting on her broom.  Abruptly her world was filled with orange and then pain - so much pain. She screamed as her skin felt like it burst into invisible flames.  As if a million ants were biting her at once.  

           She dropped her wand and began ripping at her robes.  Oblivious to the fact that she was now plummeting towards the ground.  There was nothing in her world but the burning, itching skin. 

           Arms wrapped around her, pushing her into the broom, trapping her hands.  She shrieked louder and threw herself against the arms, trying to break free.  She had to reach her skin.  Only then could she put out the flames.

           She was rolling across the ground, the arms still around her.  She shrieked and tried to push them out of the way.  

           It burned.  

           It burned so bad.

           The hands moved out of her way and then started helping her.  Within moments her own hands were on her bare skin and she was scratching, cooling the burn with her sharp nails, heedless of the wet warmth that was soon coating her fingers.

           But it wasn't enough.  She scratched harder, trying to find peace.

           Someone grabbed her wrists and pulled them away.  Before she could do much more than scream in anger and pain red light filled her vision and darkness took her, dousing the flames.

XXX

           A bolt of lightning lit up the sky, showing one of the two brooms plummeting towards the ground, the other racing behind it.  Lucius cast, his spell hitting another in mid-air, stopping whatever it was from hitting the Black girl.  

           A Malfoy never hurt family, even family by marriage.

           A few moments later a loud crack was heard and quickly followed by a dozen more cracks.

           "Aurors!  Stop casting!  Get out of here," The Dark Lord hissed.  "I will call you later.  They must not believe I'm back.  There must be no proof. Not yet."

           Lucius breathed a silent sigh of relief, praying that one of the aurors caught Hermione Black before she hit the ground.  He could do nothing for her, not without putting his son and wife in danger.  Even aiming to miss or hit other spells with his own had been chancy.

           One day he may have to choose between his son and his wife's cousin, but not today.  Not with the shock of finding the Dark Lord still alive and in a new physical body still coursing through him.

           He had to think this through, make a plan.

           And, much as he feared the Dark Lord, he had to live with Narcissa.

           She would slaughter him if he ever hurt anyone she cared about.  Not that he blamed her, or that he ever planned to hurt his wife in any way.  He loved her dearly and he wanted, no, needed, to speak with her about what had occurred today before he did anything. When he'd first joined the Dark Lord he'd been single, and being a Death Eater did not facilitate family life. Though he'd never considered leaving, even after Draco was born.

           It simply wasn't a possibility.

           But the world was different now.  He had a wife and son, ties to families and people that had been on the opposite side in the last war.  Before the Dark Lord had been defeated by a simple babe.  He could be defeated again.  Hadn't three school children just succeeded in defying him? 

           Maybe he wasn't as powerful as Lucius had always thought him to be.

           Just as he was about to apparate out he heard the Dark Lord hiss, "Barty, stay and deal with them.  Cover us, escape if you can, but make them believe it was just you."

           "Yes, master."

           There was such worship and love in Barty Crouch Jr's voice that Lucius wanted to vomit into his Death Eater mask.  He had never understood those that saw the Dark Lord that way.

           Serve the power, yes, but worship it?

           Never.

           And he only loved three people in this world: Narcissa, Draco, and himself.  The Dark Lord was worthy of his respect, but not his love.

           With that thought in mind he apparated out.  He took a couple random jumps to places in the countryside; removing his Death Eater ensemble as he went.  On the third jump he landed in Knockturn Alley.  From there he walked to the entrance of Gringotts before apparating home.  

           He never used to be so careful apparating away from the Dark Lord, but the aurors had become a lot more competent since Sirius Black and Alice Longbottom became section leaders.  

           The mansion was quiet when he arrived, but that meant nothing.  Narcissa was rarely loud and the house elves were always silent.  

           He found her in her private sitting room.  The room was dark, not even a fire was lit.  As soon as he entered she spoke, never looking at him.  Her gaze was focused on the window and the dark, wet countryside beyond it.

           "Draco owled me.  Is it true?"

           "Yes."

           "What happened?"

           "Apparently Crouch Sr. was an imbecile.  He exchanged his dying wife for his Death Eater son.  The dementors never even noticed.  He kept him locked up under the Imperius Curse."

           "Then, last summer, when Crouch Sr. had a heart attack..."

           "Crouch Jr. escaped.  He chased down rumors and found the Dark Lord.  He took care of him, and then when the time was right, he kidnapped Harry Potter off the streets of Hogsmeade.  An old ritual, one I'm sure was in one of the Slytherin tomes, was used to give the Dark Lord a new form.  I've never seen the ritual before, but he used his father's bones, Crouch Junior's hand, and Harry Potter's blood.  Junior is a fanatic and he almost killed Potter when he took the blood. The Dark Lord forced a blood replenishing potion down Potter's throat and bound the wound after the boy dropped into unconsciousness.  After that he spent a long time taunting and torturing Potter before using the Imperius to force Potter to duel.  After the mockery of a duel he tried to use the Imperius again to make Potter answer a question, but the boy resisted."  This last bit was said with wonder, and Narcissa finally looked away from the window, her eyes narrowing as she made out her husband's expression in the dark.

           "He resisted?"

           "Yes, quite strongly.  Refused to say if he wanted to be tortured or not again."

           "And then?"

           "The boy ran and hid.  The Dark Lord chased him down and cast Avada Kadavra.  Potter jumped out of hiding and cast Expelliarmus.  After that.... The spells collided in the air and forged some sort of bond between the two wands.  Potter won the battle of the wands, he pushed something from his wand to the Dark Lord's.  After that things came out of the Dark Lord's wand.  I couldn't make out what they were, there was some sort of golden cage-like dome over the two of them. But they looked like people."

           "People?"

           "So it seemed, perhaps we will learn more from Draco later. I doubt the Dark Lord will share the information."

           Narcissa purses her lips, "True, he likes his secrets.  And Hermione may tell Draco, however it is unlikely; as he refused to accompany her on the rescue of Potter.  Though he did agree to inform Dumbledore of what had happened, before owling us."

           Lucius stiffened at the idea of his son directly defying the Dark Lord.  Images of Draco being overwhelmed and out-dueled.  His son being captured and tortured.  They flashed across his eyes and his heartbeat quickened in fear.

           But, no, it hadn't happened.  Draco had refused.  But he'd still sent a letter home.  Informing them of what had happened. He'd even informed Dumbledore.  He was in the middle, able to go both ways.  Ties to both sides.

           And Lucius would do his best to keep Draco there until they knew which side would win.  He couldn't let his son be hurt.  He needed to step up Draco's training this summer.  Maybe he could hire someone.  Perhaps the current Defense teacher would like some summer employment.  He’d heard she was very good.

           He took a deep breath and continued his accounts of the afternoon and evening.

           "After a few moments the dome disappeared and the forms raced at the Dark Lord.  Potter reached his hand up and the Weasley girl came swooping down like a Valkyrie.  She clasped his hand and pulled him up behind her.  They flew away, with Hermione Black providing covering fire.  Then the aurors arrived and the Dark Lord told us to leave, that he wanted no proof of his return.  He made Junior stay and take the blame."

           "He plans to undermine the government then.  For Dumbledore will believe Potter.  But Fudge won't.  He'll see Potter as a mere confused boy and Junior as a madman.  He'll be afraid of what the Dark Lord's return means."

           "So it seems."

           She turned away from him and looked back out the window, "All my work, all my plans..."

           Lucius crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Narcissa, feeling her lean back into his strength.

           "Not all is lost, Love.  Once again the Dark Lord was defied a full victory by three children.  I believe he is not as powerful as I once thought."

           She turned and looked up at him, her eyes a beacon of light in the darkness.

           "Are you saying you'll turn from him?  Put your family first?"

           Lucius stared down into the eyes of the woman he loved most in the world and looked inside himself.

           Always he had felt an emptiness inside of himself.  His father had told him it was the Malfoy curse.  This feeling of powerlessness and inadequacy, despite the knowledge that they were anything but.

           He had once sought glory, believing himself to be fighting for the protection of his legacy and all his family held dear.  He'd truly believed that muggleborns and muggles would be the downfall of their society, and he still did to a degree, but waging this war against them was not the right way.  

           A war of words, of knowledge, perhaps.  But not of spells, not of death.  Death always occured on both sides.

           What had happened last year at Hogwarts had shocked him to his core.  First the use of such a beautiful, ancient tradition as locking your magic for the one you love being used as a potential threat against a child.  Not that he'd seen it that way at first, but Narcissa had shown him what it really meant.  Men almost never locked their magic; he'd never truly considered the significance of it.  It had always just been the way it was, he'd never had reason to think about what it meant.  What a woman gave up when she did it.

           Then there had been the vitius at the tournament celebration.  That it had been boys from such old and well-established magical families behind the attack...

           They should have known better.  What they did served no purpose.  It was complete cruelty that did nothing to further any goals.  And simple cruelty against muggles, who were no better than animals, was one thing, but mudbloods had magic.  If nothing else that earned them a quick, clean death.

           And while Lucius knew he was not a good man - he'd done many cruel acts to fellow magical people - but they had always served a purpose.

           He'd slipped that diary to the Weasley girl to undermine Dumbledore.  He'd been sure in the knowledge at the time that he was the worst possible man to be running Hogwarts.  Something he still felt, but he knew now that they also needed Dumbledore.  The man served a purpose.  His death in such a place of power would mean the Dark Lord would win.  As long as he lived the future was still uncertain.

           Dumbledore was now trying to solve one of the problems made evident by the vitius incident; by using Narcissa and her sister to educate the victims, so they could protect themselves, but this was just a temporary fix.  The real cure was needed on the other side.  To find out why those boys thought they could just hand out one of the most protected substances in magical Britain like they were chocolate frogs.

           It never would have happened when he was back in school; back then there were rules, codes of conduct, subtlety. 

           Mayhap it had changed because of the war, but the foolishness of men like Dumbledore could-

           "Lucius?"

           His thoughts were cut short as he remembered the question his wife had first asked him.

           "I-I don't know if I will turn from him, but I will put our family first.  Whichever side that requires me to be on."

           She smiled a bit.  Just a small, sad twist of her lips.

           "I suppose that's all I can ask for."

           He didn't reply with words.  Instead he reached out and pulled her close to him, nestling her head in the crook of his neck.

           He didn't yet knew what the return of the Dark Lord meant for his family, but he would do his best to bring them through this unscathed.  

           It was all he could do.

XXX

           Harry sat patiently as the healer fitted a sling for his left arm.  It had been easy to heal the damage, and Voldemort had already given him a blood replenishet.  But magic couldn't solve all problems.  Crouch Jr had sliced quite a few important tendons in his haste to secure blood of the enemy for his master.  

           "Now, you need to keep the sling on at all times.  And when you sleep switch to the soft brace.  We don't want you twisting in your sleep and doing more damage.  I want you to go visit Madam Pomfrey once a week.  You should be able to take this off in 4-6 weeks," the healer said, pulling back and observing her handiwork.

           "Yes, ma'am.  Good thing I'm right-handed.  OWLs are in about three weeks."

           She smiled, "I wouldn't worry about that.  If necessary St. Mungos can issue a medical excuse and you can take your exams when you're fit."

           "That's what's going to happen to Hermione, isn't it?"

           She stood up and began tidying up her things.  "I'm not your sister's healer, Mr. Potter.  I've specialized in bones and tendons.  Miss Black was hit by a curse."

           Harry could tell she was suddenly uncomfortable.  He'd been in St. Mungos for hours now, and no one would tell him about Hermione or let him see her.  But he knew it was bad.  He'd barely been able to focus after she'd been hit.  It had taken all of his force of will to stay in his own body until he got her onto the ground.  

           She scratched her own skin badly enough to draw blood.  He'd been with her then.  The burning...

           It had been a relief when someone knocked her unconscious.  He himself had passed out from the sudden release from the pain.  Even now he could feel her, distantly, in the back of his mind.  Whatever they were doing to her, she was still in severe pain.

           "Now, you just wait here.  Mr. Black will come and fetch you after he’s filled out your release forms."

           "Thank you."

           Harry watched her leave the small examining room he was occupying.  In an attempt to distract himself from the fate of his sister he looked around the room, trying to find something to hold his attention.  Sadly, the most interesting thing was a glass jar full of cotton swabs.  The rest of the room was nothing but white walls and off-white cabinets.  He was seated on the centerpiece - an examining table painted in more white.

           He glanced at the floor and began to count tiles.  Anything to keep his mind occupied and off of the events that had just occurred.  Off of the pain he could feel coming from Hermione.  He had just reached thirty-one when the distant sound of shouting drew his attention.

           Curious, he slipped off the table and over to the door.  As soon as he cracked it open the voices became crystal clear.  

           "HOW DARE YOU CALL MY DAUGHTER A LIAR!" Mrs. Weasley's thunderous voice rang through the hospital.

           "M-Mrs. Weasley, you have to admit, it's highly irregular.  It's been a decade and a half.  Besides, only Crouch Jr was found at the-"

           "Fudge!  We told you!  As soon as we popped in there were numerous people apparating away!"  Padfoot declared.

           "And Crouch Jr. declares he was the only one.  He was distraught, saying he failed.  We checked his wand, he cast that curse at Miss Black.  As well as quite a few other nasty ones."

           "So, you'll believe a madman over my daughter?" Harry didn't think he'd ever heard Mr. Weasley sound so angry.  Well, except for when the twins tried to make Ron swear an unbreakable vow.

           "Your daughter is only fourteen!  She's only a little girl.  And she'd just flown halfway across the British Isles!  She made a mistake.  You-Know-Who isn't back.  He CAN'T be back," Minister Fudge protested.

           Harry saw red.  He'd already been growing angry, but this attitude...He yanked the door open and stormed into the hallway, following the conversation to its source.

           "Minister, there was evidence of more than one person in that graveyard.  Surely you must admit that Barty Crouch Jr wasn't working alone," Dumbledore's said soothingly.

           "It was raining!  And there were a dozen aurors there!  Not to mention the children!  Of course there was evidence of more than one person!"  Fudge blustered.

           Harry found the half-open door, through which the voices were originating. He shoved the door, letting it bang against the wall and draw everyone's attention.  

           He already knew the Minister, Padfoot, Dumbledore, and the Weasleys were there.  There was also Mrs. Longbottom and a lion-haired man that Harry recognized as Padfoot's boss: Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Aurors.

           "So, will you call me a liar, too?” he asked.  “Voldemort was there, as well as at least a dozen Death Eaters."

           "Now, Mr. Potter, let's not be hasty.  You were injured, mistakes are made in the heat of the moment one man can become many," Fudge countered.

           "Heat of the moment?  Heat of the moment?!?  There was no heat when I watched Barty Crouch Jr. drop a baby-shaped creature in a cauldron containing bone of the father, flesh of the servant, and blood of the enemy!  There was only cold, stark fear as I watched Lord Voldemort rise from that cauldron!  Naked as the day he was born with glowing red eyes, a snake's nose, and bone white skin.  He's back!  Ginny isn't lying," he practically spat the last three words.

           "Now, Mr. Potter, you were injured and lost a lot of blood.  You were just seeing things.  There is no such ritual."

           Padfoot snorted, "No such ritual?  That's a load of hippogriff dung, Minister.  Lord Voldemort was the last heir to both Slytherin and the Gaunts.  He likely has family tomes full of things that no one knows about."

           Fudge sniffed, "Family tomes should be made illegal.  All that knowledge, trapped, available to only a few."

           "Oh, really?  So you would give up your own family tome?" Mrs. Longbottom asked, raising a delicate eyebrow.

           Fudge puffed up his chest, "I have no idea what you mean.  I'm a half-blood.  My grandfather was a muggleborn.  We can’t have a family tome."

           "And your grandmother was the half-blood daughter of a Malfoy," Mrs. Longbottom snapped back.

           Scrimgeour cleared his throat, "Could we get back on track?  Minister, it’s my opinion that Crouch Jr is not sane enough to orchestrate this evening by himself.  Whether it was You-Know-Who or not isn't important at this point."

           "I'm sure you see the logic in that, Minister," Dumbledore said mildly.

           "No, I don't.  I refuse to believe that there is another former death eater running about in hiding!  It's not possible!"

           "Fudge!  Get your head out of the sand!  There are quite a few former death eaters running around!  And now that Voldemort is back they're going to restart the war!  Undoing all the work we've done over the past fourteen years!"  Padfoot snarled.

           "No," Fudge shook his head, "if I declare that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, just on the words of three children, I'll be the laughing stock of Britain!  No one will believe-"

           "Then get a proper recording auror in here!  Take my memory!  Take Ginny's!  I'll even take Vertiserum!  He’s back!"  Harry shouted.

           "No, can't do that.  I'm sure you believe you saw him.  Likely some nightmare from your childhood.  All that blood loss.  As for Miss Weasley, she was exhausted.  So much stress to fly from Hogwarts to Little Hangleton.  Maybe we could trust Miss Black, but not after that curse.  She’s out of her mind with pain.  No, it simply can't be done."

           "Fudge!  Stop making excuses to avoid the truth!  Just wait!  He'll make his move and then-"

           "Mr. Black, please stop speaking to me in such a manner.  I am your Minister and you will address me properly."

           "Argghhh!!!! That's it!"  Padfoot ripped off his outer robe and threw it at the shocked Minister.  "I'm done!  I try telling the truth and you slander me, my children, my friend's children, and everything the aurors stand for!"

           Fudge's mouth opened and closed, like a beached fish.

           "Same," Mrs. Longbottom said, pulling off her own outer robe.  She didn't throw it.  Rather, she folded it neatly and handed it to Scrimgeor. 

           "But-but, you can't!" Fudge gasped.

           "Actually, Minister, they can.  Thank you for costing me my two best aurors.  Three total if I'm right in assuming that Tonks will follow her cousin," Scrimgeor looked at Padfoot and Mrs. Longbottom, "If you two ever change your minds, let me know.  Don't know who’s capable of being my replacement one day without you."

           "Kingsley is a good man.  Lots of initiative," Padfoot said.

           "No!  You can't leave!  You two are aurors!  What else can you?" The Minister’s voice was high-pitched and held a note a panic.

           Padfoot and Mrs. Longbottom shared a look before Padfoot let out a bark of laughter and Mrs. Longbottom twisted her lips into the facsimile of a smile.

           Professor Dumbledore rested his hands on his stomach and rolled back on his heels, taking in everyone in the room, "My dear Minister, I think you've failed to realize that Alice and Sirius never really needed to work.  Also, I do believe I'm in need of a new Defense teacher for next year.  As Ms. Roux has expressed interest in returning to France.”

           Harry looked away from the Minister in time to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley share a weighted look before Mrs. Weasley gave a small nod and spoke.

           "So, you still maintain that our daughter is lying?"

           Fudge pursed his lips in rage, "Of course she's lying!  Or mistaken! Or both!"

           Mr. Weasley let out a small sigh, "Then I must also tender my resignation.  I cannot work for a man that cares so little about the truth."

           Once again Fudge was left gaping like a fish.

           Padfoot arched a brow at Mrs. Longbottom, giving her a look that Harry had seen Hermione trying to emulate for hours in front of a mirror.

           She gave a sharp nod and walked out of the room.  Padfoot followed, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders and moving him through the doorway and down the hall.

           "Let's go look in on Hermione.  Then get you back to school.  I don't think it's a good idea for you to see her like this, but I know you won't leave until you do."

           "But, Padfoot, what about Voldemort?  And your job?  What are we going to do?"

           The older man stopped and pulled Harry into an alcove, where a few wheelchairs and IV holders were stored.  He put both hands on Harry's shoulders and looked into his eyes.  They were almost level and Harry was struck with the sudden realization he was almost at the same age the Marauders had been when everything fell apart.

           "Harry, I know you're wrapped up in all of this.  I know I can't tell you to stay out.  Even if I did you would get drawn back in.  He won't rest until you're dead.  As for my job, don't worry about it.  I was an auror at first because it seemed like the thing to do when the world was descending into darkness.  I was still in training during the last war, and I chose to continue it after the war ended because I wanted to make the world a better place for you and Hermione.  And, no matter what happens, I will continue to do my best to make the world a better place.  I'm fairly sure I can find quite a few useful things to do.  As for Voldemort, we can't do much at the moment.  I need you to return to Hogwarts, finish your OWLs.  Hopefully you'll have your sister back by then, but if not, we'll deal with that later.  I just-" he stopped and took a ragged breath, tears beginning to leak from his eyes.  "I just need you to stay vigilant and study hard.  No matter what.  When you come home I'm going to up your training.  Bring out a few tricks I was planning to save until next year.  But I need you to keep your head down and go back to Hogwarts for now.  Can you do that?"

           Harry nodded stiffly, his mind racing with questions, but his mouth unable to voice them.

           Padfoot took a deep breath and pulled back before wiping his eyes." Alright, let's go see your sister."

           He once again wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder and the two of them continued on their way to the magical elevator.  

           A few floors and a short walk later they stood outside a rather simple looking door.  Neither of them moved to open it.  Harry felt as if a weight was pushing him back.

           He'd seen what Hermione had done to her own skin.  He'd been with her, feeling the pain, before the satisfaction of scratching had calmed the flames.  Even now he could sense her on the other side.

           No, he had to go in and see her.  Hermione would visit him.

           He reached out and turned the knob.  

           It was a small, private room; but a curtain was still drawn around the bed.

           Tentatively he moved forwards until he came to a gap in the curtain. He could feel Padfoot behind him, ready to be his support.  He took a deep breath and shoved the curtain aside.

           The sight before him brought tears to his eyes.  

           He'd expected the worst, but he hadn't expected this.

           She was asleep, but even in sleep she was in misery.  For her hands, tied to the safety rails on the bed, were curled into claws as they tried to reach the bandages around her middle.  Her face was scrunched up in pain.  

           It was as if the very sight of her snapped something in him and all the shock, fear, and pain of the past twenty-four hours hit him at once.  He let out a sob and immediately felt himself be turned and enveloped in a hug.  

           "It will be alright, Harry.  They have Crouch Jr's wand.  They'll find the spell that did this and they'll reverse it.  They will.  Don't worry, they'll do it."

           And, much as Harry wanted to believe his dad, he couldn't help but hear the uncertainty and fear in the older man's voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fudge has just made some huge mistakes. Just as Voldemort hoped he would. Also, hopefully it's clear that Lucius is not a good man, though he may not make entirely evil choices. And I promise Hermione will get cured. Eventually.
> 
> Enjoy!


	18. Family Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns about the connection between him and Hermione, while Draco learns about what happened to Hermione.

          Harry stepped out of the fireplace and into the Headmaster's office, doing a quick hop step so as not to fall.  Floo was not his preferred method of travel, but it was fast. Ginny was sound asleep in one of the chairs, her head resting on Dumbledore's desk.  She was still in the robes she'd been wearing when he took her to Hogsmeade yesterday.  Now they were wrinkled and covered in mud.  Professor Dumbledore emerged from the fireplace as soon as Harry moved out of the way.

          "Harry, why don't you take a seat?  I have a few questions for you."

          Harry took the remaining empty chair next to Ginny and watched as the Headmaster waved his wand and tapped the fireplace, supposedly shutting down the floo.

          Dumbledore silently walked over to his office chair and sat down, he gave the sleeping Ginny a sad smile before reaching out and tapping her shoulder gently.  She jerked awake, her wand clenched in her fist.

          "Oh, you're back!  How's Hermione?  They wouldn't tell me anything.  Did the Minister believe you?  He called me a silly girl!  Says Lord Voldemort isn't really back!  That I didn't know what I was talking about!  Told me to go back to school and go to bed like a good little girl!  He even patted me on the head!" Her voice was heavily laden with disgust in the last bit.

          "Um..." Harry didn't quite know where to start.  Especially as just the thought of Hermione and her situation brought angry, guilt-ridden tears to his eyes.  It was his fault she'd gotten injured.  He'd wanted her to come.  If it wasn't for that connection she'd be safe in Hogwarts, not tied to a hospital bed, in terrible pain.  When he reached out he could distantly feel her – silently screaming and wanting to scratch her skin off.  Even while asleep

          "Miss Weasley, I am afraid that Miss Black was hit with a terrible hex or curse.  One the healers have never seen before.  They're doing their best to cure her, but it may be awhile before she is fully recovered.  As for Cornelius, he is choosing to ignore the truth.  So I will have to take matters into my own hands.  Even Scrimgeour, the head of the aurors, believes that Barty Crouch Jr was not working alone."  He looked at her over the top of his half-moon spectacles, "Does that satisfy your questions?"

          Ginny grew pale nodded before reaching over to grasp Harry's hand, giving it a squeeze.  He smiled weakly at her and returned the squeeze, before looking back at the Headmaster.

          "You wanted to speak to me, sir?"

          "Yes, I want you to tell me about this bond between you and Hermione Black.  For example, what does it do?  How long has it been there?"

          Harry shrugged, "It's always been there, for as long as I can remember.  If one of us is terribly upset or in unbearable pain the other one can feel it, too.  Sometimes we can even see what the other is seeing.  We also know exactly where the person in pain is.  That's how Hermione found me.  We can dampen it somewhat with occlumancy.  I can feel her right now, the curse isn't letting her rest."

          Dumbledore steepled his fingers and looked thoughtful for a moment.  When he spoke again his voice contained an emotion that Harry couldn't quite place, but it felt like regret.

          "I know exactly what binds the two of you.  Now, please hold any questions until the end.  Back on that Halloween night when you and Hermione were orphaned I took several hours to perform a ritual with you after Hagrid pulled you from the rubble.  At the time I believed Sirius had betrayed your family, so I planned to send you to your muggle aunt's house.  I knew you would need protection as there were still Death Eaters on the loose.  So I cast a ward on your very blood, it was tied to the protections your mother cast on you as she died.  The ones that let you survive the killing curse.  What this meant was as long as you shared a home with a relative of your mother's you would be safe.  A very necessary thing when your only relatives are muggles.  Blood wards are tricky things, they not only require a blood relation, but also some emotion between the two people.  Any emotion will do.  Even hate, though that would afford only the most basic of protections.  The best emotion is, of course, love.  When Sirius took you from your aunt I assumed the wards were useless, but Professor Quirrell's reaction to touching you in your first year showed they were still quite active.  Your mother is not related to the Blacks as far as I know, so I was very confused.  I eventually asked a squib friend of mine to try and dig into your mother's genealogy.  It took her some time, but she found an ancestor of your mother's about four generations back that had no history.  He just appeared one day as an apprentice to a goldsmith in Bath. There are no records of his parents or his family.  He married the goldsmith's only daughter and took her family's name, as that was the name of the shop.  Setting a young squib up with a good life in the muggle world was done quite often by many wizarding families after the Statute of Secrecy.  Leading me and my friend, Arabella, to believe this man was a squib.  Now here's where Arabella got creative.  She went back down the line and traced where his other three children ended up.  It turns out that the youngest daughter is Miss Black's ancestress, while the second son is yours.  So, you and your sister actually do share blood; likely the smallest amount possible that the blood wards will recognize.”

          Dumbledore's lips quirked into a smile.  "Incidentally, that common ancestor was a redhead and clearly from a Pureblood family wealthy enough to get them such a prime apprenticeship.  Leading me to believe that he was a Prewett by birth, though a Weasley is also a possibility.  They are the only two Wizarding families that carry red hair with their magic.  Either way, you two," he gestured at Ginny and Harry, "are also distantly related.  Extremely distantly."

          Harry looked over at Ginny in surprise, she was turning a bit red in the face. 

          "That's uh, interesting..."

          Dumbledore chuckled, "Don't worry about it.  But it would explain your mother's family magic, and how it saved you.  The Prewett's have always been protective, the Weasley's are also known for their dedication, and after several generations of it lying dormant either family magic would have become quite powerful with your mother's capacity to love.  And that affected the blood wards.  As you and Miss Black share blood, as well as love, the blood wards blossomed and mutated into something that was more than just protection.  It forged a link between you two."

          "Sir," Ginny began, "why don't more people use blood wards, if they're so powerful?  Parents would never worry about their children if they did."

          "A very good question, Miss Weasley.  It is because a blood ward can only be established through a sacrifice.  And a willing one at that.  Lily Potter willingly gave her life to protect Harry.  This action lingered on him.  Eventually it would have faded, but I caught it in time, using wards to tie her sacrifice permanently to Harry's blood."

          Harry remembered something Hermione had said once, "Sir, aren't wards made from runes?  How did you tie them to me?"

          Dumbledore sighed and his lips quirked a bit, "Harry, roll up a sleeve.  He rose and pulled out his wand.

          Harry bared his right arm with Ginny's assistance and held it out. 

          The Headmaster tapped his forearm with his wand and whispered a strange spell under his breath.  It didn't sound like it was based in Latin, rather, it sounded older, more primitive.  Instantly runes appeared all up and down his arms. 

          "They were quite a bit smaller when I put them there, but they grew with you."

          Harry stared at his arms in amazement.  A chain of runes started on the back of his hand and moved up his arm, loosely encircling it until it disappeared under his robes.

          "It continues, forming a loop over your collarbones and then down the other arm.

          Harry peaked into the sling and indeed saw runes on the back of his left hand, disappearing under the bandage, "How did I never know they were there?"

          "I hid them under a very obscure spell.  I didn't exactly want everyone to know what protections you carried.  Even though Lord Voldemort has now taken your blood - negating many of the protections - I would still like to keep the runes hidden.  It is better if he is unable to learn the exact extent of the wards.”

          Harry absently nodded as he couldn't take his eyes off the runes tattooed up and down his arm.

          They were beautiful.

          And now that he knew they were there, he could feel them, just like he could feel Hermione.  But they weren't filled with pain; rather, he got a sense of love and peace from them. 

          Getting an idea, he carefully reached out with his mind and gathered up the feelings, then he brought it to his bond with Hermione.  Slowly, carefully he began feeding her the pleasant emotions.  Almost instantly he felt her pain lessen.  It was still there, but more distant.  She stopped fighting whatever they were using to keep her unconscious. 

          Tentatively, he stopped feeding her the emotions from the runes.  

          She didn't wake back up.

          He could feel the curse trying to get at her, but the wards were protecting her mind.  Holding the curse off and letting her rest.  She wasn't cured, but she wasn't in pain. 

          He let out a sigh of relief.

          "Harry, can I cover them again?"

          He jumped and looked up, away from the chain on his arm.  

          "Sir, I just...the runes, I can feel them.  Like I feel Hermione.  I sent them to her, just now.  And, she's resting.  She's not in pain.  The wards are protecting her mind from the curse. Will that stop if you cover the runes?"

          "I don't know, but we can see," the Professor sounded intrigued by this information.  "If I cover them and she is no longer protected I will take the spell off."

          He rested the tip of his wand on Harry's arm and spoke those strange words again. 

          Instantly the runes disappeared.  But this time Harry knew they were there.  He could still feel them, distantly, and they continued to protect Hermione's mind.

          "Harry?  Is she still safe?" 

          Harry opened his eyes and looked into Ginny's bright brown ones.  

          "Yes, now I know the runes are there, I can feel them through the spell."

          Dumbledore smiled and moved to sit behind his desk once again.  "That is good to hear, my boy.  Now, do either of you have any questions for me?  I am sure you are both exhausted."

          Harry stood up and awkwardly tried to pull his sleeve down, Ginny immediately stood and moved to help him.  As soon as her red hair filled his vision he thought of one more question.

          "Sir, what about Padfoot, Mrs. Longbottom, and Mr. Weasley?  What will they do now they quit the Ministry?"

          Ginny's head jerked up, shock on her face.

          "Dad quit?!?  Why???"

          "Miss Weasley, your parents were not happy with how the Minister treated you.  Your father decided that he could not work for such a man."

          "But...but...my mom doesn't work!  What will my parents do?!?"  There was a trace of panic in her voice and Harry was instantly reminded of something he often forgot.

          The Weasley's were quite poor.  Most of their food they grew themselves.  When they were younger this had caused a few misunderstandings between Ron and Harry, especially whenever Harry got a new broom.  But, as they grew, it became less of an issue.  Ron slept over enough that he knew of Hermione's nightmares.  He saw how Padfoot and Mooney got around Halloween.  He realized that Harry and Hermione treasured his mum's homemade sweaters just as much as anything new Padfoot bought them.

          Harry had been so worried about Padfoot and Hermione he hadn't considered what Mr. Weasley's quitting would mean for the Weasleys.

          "Miss Weasley, I wouldn't worry overmuch.  There have been several ideas tossed around by your parents.  Concentrate instead on the last month here at school."  He focused his piercing blue eyes on Harry, "Especially you, my boy.  I fear the Ministry may try to distract you from your OWLs.  Don't let them.”  He slipped his wand away and rubbed his hands together,  “Now, why don't you two go catch a nap before lunch?  I'm sure you're exhausted."

          Harry nodded and took Ginny's hand.  The two of them bid the Headmaster goodbye and slipped down the spiral staircase.  

          Somehow Harry wasn't surprised to find their friends waiting for them at the bottom, even Pansy.  He was a bit surprised to see the Weasley twins with them, and Fred was holding a grubby piece of parchment in his hands.  Something about it struck a memory in the back of Harry's head.

          Ron crossed the hallway in two giant strides and took Ginny into his arms, "I'm so glad you're safe!  When no one could find you I feared the worst."

          Ginny's arms flailed as Ron squeezed her, but she was soon rescued by the twins.

          Not that it was much of a rescue, as they proceeded to check over every inch of her, including holding her arms out and bending them like she was their toy.  When George tried to look up her nose she lost it.

          "Fred! George!  I'm fine!!!" Her voice rang through the corridor as she shoved them away.  Fred went flying, but managed not to fall.  Unfortunately for George, he somehow tripped over Harry's foot, earning him a nice crash to the floor.  

          Harry didn't feel at all sorry.

          Not that he was saying he did it intentionally.

          "Where's Hermione?  We never saw her on the map," Neville said, ignoring the exaggerated moaning and groaning of the twins.

          "Map?  What map?"  Harry asked, choosing to ignore the question about Hermione.  He didn't want to talk about her.  Not when he could feel her there, barely restful.  The curse hovering outside the wards, waiting to attack.  He wondered if the wards would work if it had been Voldemort that cast the curse.

          Likely not, as he had used Harry's blood, thus evading the protection.

          "The Maurader's Map," Luna said. "Hermoine got it off the twins.  When we found her stuff they nicked it back."

          "Hey!  We're not keeping it!  We don't steal from our business partners!" George protested, standing up and rubbing his posterior.  

          "Yeah, mate, where is she?  What happened?  No one seems to be saying anything," Ron asked.

          "Draco knows something, but he's not sharing.  Never seen him quite so shaken before," Pansy added.

          Harry looked around the group, it still felt odd to have Pansy tagging along all of the time now.  Especially as no one could quite determine her role in their group of friends.  

          He gave his head a shake, why was he thinking about this?  It wasn’t important that Pansy didn’t fit in.  At least not right now.  She was Neville’s…something.  And Neville was his friend.  End of story.

          Ginny seemed to sense Harry's to talk about things.  "Let's go to our classroom, I don't think we should discuss this in a hallway outside the Headmaster's office."

          They all walked to the classroom Hermione had claimed the year before.  On the way Ron asked about Harry's arm, but he deflected by asking how they realized something was wrong.

          "Oh, when we got back we found Hermione's things in her classroom," he said, glaring at a couple Slytherin firsties that bumped into Harry’s left arm, making him wince in pain.  "Knew immediately that she wouldn't leave her bag, so we grabbed her things and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.  Ran into the twins, when they heard she was missing they admitted she had the Maurader's Map; that they'd had it for years.  Even though they knew it should rightfully go to you or 'Mione."

          "Ah," Harry said.  It was interesting that Hermione had obtained the map, but had never told any of them.  Why was she keeping secrets? 

          “Luna found it in her things and we began combing the castle for you three.  When we couldn’t find you we went to Professor McGonagall.  She told us the Headmaster was already dealing with it and to go back to our common rooms.  We slipped Pansy and Luna into Gryffindor Tower and watched the map until we saw you return.  Ginny returned hours ago, but never moved.”

          “She fell asleep,” Harry said, slipping behind a tapestry and taking the secret passage up to the correct floor.

          Once they were in the classroom and everyone was settled Harry took a deep breath and began recounting what had happened to him the day before.  When he recounted the scene with the cauldron - including who came out of it - everyone gasped.

          Pansy looked truly terrified, though the others weren't much better.

          Harry thought he heard her whisper, "My father..." but he couldn't be quite sure.

          "So, he's back.  Does he have Hermione?  Is that what you won't say?"  Ron asked.

          Harry shook his head and looked down, running his right hand over the top of his left, picturing the runes that were lying there, invisible under that ancient spell.  His mother was still with him, through those runes, she would help him protect Hermione.  Guilt wracked him and he clenched his fist.

          She wouldn't be cursed if he hadn't been stupid enough to be kidnapped.

          "Let us finish.  No questions, please," Ginny said, shooting Ron a glare.

          There were no more interruptions, though Neville looked sick after hearing the name of the man that had kidnapped Harry and sliced his arm open.

          When Harry told about the conversation between Fudge and the others the twins and Ron bristled with anger.

          "Do you think-"

          "Definitely, we can-"

          Ginny glared at the twins, shutting them up.

          Harry hesitated before explaining the blood wards.  Did he trust Pansy?  The others, definitely.  He'd known all of them since childhood, even Neville.  But Pansy had always been part of a different group - best friends with Malfoy.  She was the daughter of a possible Death Eater and definitely a Death Eater supporter.

          "Want me to go?" Pansy asked.

          Harry jumped and everyone looked at her.

          She shrugged, "I'm a Slytherin, my parents never stood against You-Know-Who.  You're justified in hesitating to trust me."

          "I trust her," Neville said quietly.  Meeting Harry's eyes with his own.

          "Nev-" Pansy started.

          "No, I mean it, Pansy.  You're not the same person you used to be.  You may end up on the opposite side in this coming war, but you won't betray my trust.  I know that."

          A ghost of a smile appeared on the Slytherin girl's face, "Not everyone is as honorable as you."

          "You're not honorable, you're loyal," he said, resting one of his hands on top of hers.

          Harry got the uncomfortable feeling that he was witnessing something very private.

          "And what's to say my loyalty won't be divided?  I love my parents.  Draco is still my friend."

          Neville gave her hand a squeeze, "You're intelligent, you'll find a way."

          She snorted, "You're much too optimistic for a boy that just learned one of his father's murderers is free and kidnapping people off the streets of Hogsmeade."

          Neville shrugged, "Mum always says that I'm her light in the darkness.  It's what I do."

          Pansy smiled and put her other hand on top of his.  Harry looked away then, locking eyes with Luna.

          She gave a sad, half smile, “You trust Neville.  He trusts Pansy.  Do you trust his judgement?”

          That was an easy question to answer, “Yes.”

          Her smile lightened, “Then tell us what Dumbledore said about the connection between you and Hermione.”

          “How did you-” he started, before changing his mind.  Hermione cared about authority, she would never assume that Dumbledore had been withholding information.  Luna would.

          “Well, that explains a lot,” Ron said, after the explanation.

          “You said it sounded like an ancient language?” Neville asked.

          “Yeah, something that felt very rich and primitive, at complete odds with our Latin-based spells,” Harry answered.

          “Do you suppose-”

          “-he used Pictish?”

          Luna’s head snapped up and she pulled her wand out at the twins’ words, “Father interviewed an old researcher from Raasay, an island in Scotland.  His work was interesting, but Father didn’t think it was a good fit, so we never published it.  The man said ancient Pictish wizards and witches would tattoo powerful runes on their body.  Then they would conceal them so their enemies wouldn't know what protections they had.  I decided to experiment."  She pulled up her robes and tapped her ankle with her wand and whispered something that sounded eerily familiar to what the Headmaster had said.

          On her ankle appeared a triangle, with a circle and a line inside of it.

          Luna lifted her leg up for everyone to see, "The Deathly Hallows, father doesn't know I have it."

          Ron's eyes widened, his eyes were glued on his girlfriend's ankle.

          "You tattooed a fairy tale symbol on your body.  Why am I not surprised?" Pansy said.

          Harry almost smiled at that, but it sounded so like what Hermione would say that he was instantly reminded of their current situation.  

          As if he could really forget.

          "Any great tips on terrible itching curses, Luna?"

          She shook her head sadly as she tapped her ankle again and hid the tattoo.

          "So, Hermione is in St. Mungos under a terrible curse.  You-Know-Who is back, and Harry is unable to play quidditch.  Could this year end on a worse note?"  Ron said morosely, once again capable of thought.

          Before anyone could reply the door swung open, revealing Draco Malfoy, flanked by his two walking mini-mountains.  Everyone stood up, Harry put his uninjured hand in his pocket and gripped his wand. 

          "What do you want, Malfoy?" Ginny said coldly.

          Malfoy was slow to answer.  He looked around the room, taking in everyone's expressions.  His own was quite haggard.  He appeared to have not slept all night and his usually pristine robes looked rumpled.  

          "I heard Potter was back.  Where's Black?"

          Ron bristled, "What do you care?  You refused to go with her."

          Malfoy winced, "Someone had to tell Dumbledore."

          "So, you let my sister.  Who you've never seen on a broom, fly off by herself?  When she told you it was Voldemort that kidnapped me?"

          "Harry..." Ginny started.

          Harry didn't know why he was suddenly so angry at Malfoy.  He knew that Malfoy couldn't have done any more to save Hermione than he or Ginny had.  He knew too, that if Malfoy had come to rescue Harry he would have signed his own parents’ death warrants.  For Harry was under no illusions about Lucius Malfoy's allegiances. 

          Even if his wife seemed to be taking a different path.

          But he was angry, he was tired, his arm was beginning to grow sore, and he could feel the curse hanging over Hermione like a storm cloud over the lake.

          Frankly, he just didn't care.

          "No, Ginny.  Just look at Malfoy!  He knows he was in the wrong!  He didn't know 'Mione would fly over you.  He knowingly allowed my sister to fly off on a solo rescue mission!"

          Malfoy's hands clenched into fists at his side, but he made no move to draw his wand.  "I summoned help.  What else was I supposed to do?!?  It's the Dark Lord!  You know of my family's history!  I have to protect my parents!"

          "Isn't Hermione your family, too?" Ron shot back.

          "Yes!  And that's why I told someone that she was flying off to play hero!  Now where is she?"

          "Draco, Hermione was badly cursed.  They're keeping her asleep until they find a counter-curse," Pansy said, taking a step away from Neville and towards Draco.

          Draco grew very pale, Harry noticed that the mountains seemed to show a bit of true surprise. 

          "She was hit with something that causes constant, painful itching.  She scratches until she cuts her skin open.  Harry saw her.  They have her tied to a bed, even in sleep she’s trying to scratch her skin bloody," Neville stated.  Taking a step to resume his place next to Pansy.  She cast him a grateful look and took his hand.

          Harry opened his mouth to say more, but never got a chance.  Malfoy spun on his heel and disappeared.  The mini-mountains wavered, looking at Pansy.  She cast them a shooing motion and they turned and hurried after their master.

          "When news of this breaks, some will believe Harry.  It won't be safe for any Slytherin on their own," Pansy explained.  "Gregory and Vincent may be a bit slow, but they know their roles.  They assume as a girl I need more protections than Draco does.  They haven't quite realized that since I'm friends with all of you I should be safe."

          "No one is safe."  Luna slipped her wand back into her robes and headed towards the door.  Her dreamy voice slipped away for a moment, becoming a bit bossy, "Now, Harry, Ginny, go get some rest.  We'll save you some lunch.  Fred, George, make sure they get to Gryffindor Tower safely."

          "Yes, ma'am!" They said with a pair of sloppy salutes.

          As Harry allowed himself to be steered out of the door by Fred he heard Pansy say, "I guess someone has to play mother hen until we get Hermione back."

          "It's interesting to emulate someone.  You always learn something new," Luna responded, her dreamy tone back once again.

          "Don't worry, mate.  You'll have your bossy, know-it-all sister back soon enough," Fred said, taking his hands off Harry's shoulders and allowing him to walk on his own.  "Also, you should probably keep this."  He handed over the Maurader's Map.  "I trust you know how to use it?"

          Harry nodded and slipped the map into his robes.  Of course he knew how to use it.  

          He was Prongs' son after all.

XXX

          He felt as if he was in a daze as he wandered the halls of Hogwarts.  He barely noticed the growing amount of glares that were shot his way as the day went on.  The people that tried to speak to him might as well have been ghosts.  

          He felt like a failure.

          No, he didn't just feel like a failure.

          He was a failure.

         Twice over now.

          Fear had gripped him and he'd let it take over.  He'd done what he was taught, he'd kept himself and his family safe.  

          He'd informed the Headmaster before Hermione Black had been gone for ten minutes.  He'd spilled the entire tale, and then pleaded with the man not to tell the aurors who was the informant.

          Dumbledore had agreed, on the condition that Draco always do his best to keep bringing information.  He, of course, had agreed.

          If the Dark Lord really was back, no one would be safe. Because who could say how it would end?

          Better to make no true enemies.  He knew the odds now.  He'd seen how fast Potter was with a wand.  He was being trained by the best auror in the business and had an amazing group of friends at his side.

          Friends that would die for him.

          Like Hermione Black, the scariest witch on the planet - outside of possibly his mother.

          Friends that had raced off to rescue him with a moment's thought.  Friends that had succeeded in rescuing him from the Dark Lord.

          No, this war was not certain.  And hopefully it would be over before he finished school and had to declare himself for a side.

          His mother had written him back during the night, after he’d told her what happened.  She’d been vague, but her meanings had been clear to him. 

          His father had been wherever the Dark Lord was yesterday.  His father had been there when Hermione Black had been cursed.  Had his father been the one to do it?  Malfoys don’t hurt their own.  His father had taught him that.  Had his father broken their family beliefs?  Did he believe he was doing the right thing?

_Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_

          Latin wasn’t English, nothing translated perfectly.  He knew that his father and grandfather had translated it as ‘Purity Will Always Conquer’.  They had used this as proof, of a sort, that muggleborns were worthless next to purebloods. 

          After he made the vow with Black he’d gotten curious about muggleborns and his family ancestry.  Their crest contained the same Latin phrase going back for hundreds of years.  However, he found a letter from about two hundred years ago, that translated it differently.  This great-great-great-uncle of his had determined that the first Malfoy patriarch had meant it to mean ‘Holiness Always Prevails’. 

          He could somewhat see how it had been corrupted.  Holiness could mean someone with a spiritually pure quality.  And, as far as Draco could think, love and devotion to family was the purest, most decent quality there was.

          As for prevailing verse conquering…

          He’d never wanted to conquer.  Not really.  He just wanted people to love him like Black and Potter were loved by their friends.

          He’d even lost Pansy to them.

          Family was all he had.

          And he’d failed to protect one of the few family members he had.

          A tightening grew in his chest and it began to grow hard to breath.

          Outside.  He had to get outside.

          He looked up, he was in a deserted corridor on the first floor.  He could hear Vincent and Gregory behind him. 

          He sped up and raced down a staircase.  His friendly bodyguards rushed to keep up with him. 

          And then he was outside.  The sky was a blaze of reds and oranges as the sun disappeared over the mountains.

          He took a deep shuddering breath, sucking in the cold, crisp air, and looked up at the sky.

_Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_

No matter what.  He would prevail.

And he’d make sure his family did too.

First, he needed to find that counter-curse.  

He wouldn't fail a third time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a little background info on how my experiences affect my life. Hermione's curse is based on a time when my eczema was so bad they gave me an anti-immunity drug twice in six months. I still have scars on my arms and legs from scratching myself (both awake and asleep). Anything alluding to the death of family and guilt (Sirius primarily here), is based off my own experiences with the death of my mother five years ago. I'm sharing this now because this morning I just got the news that my grandmother (very involved in my entire life, lived with her during college, love her like a second mother) has maybe six months left. I fully expect that I may end up changing my mind on how some things go in this story as real life affects my writing. Though it won't change the ultimate ending, which will be happy. Our heroes will just do more to earn it. 
> 
> I also may miss posting for a week or two in August as I travel back to the States to visit her one last time. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and learning why Hermione and Harry have the connection. I made up the blood relationship whole cloth. As for the blood wards, JK tells us surprisingly little about them, so I gave my own interpretation. 
> 
> And, yes, Neville's father is dead. I had some hints earlier, but only one person mentioned catching it in a comment.


	19. The Menagerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry both receive help from unexpected sources.

Draco slammed the book in front of him closed in disgust.  

Useless.

Utterly, impossibly useless.

It was certainly true that itching hexes and curses were quite common, but every one he found wore off after - at most - a day.

Hermione Black had been cursed a week ago.

It wasn't like he could go home and quiz his father.  It was the middle of May, he had exams starting in a week.

And he'd already tried to write his mother about it.  She'd told him that things were being handled, and he needed to focus on school and staying safe.

He scoffed.

Safe, what was safe?

The Daily Prophet had released an article explaining that Barty Crouch Jr had escaped Azkaban with the help of his parents, and he's then escaped his father's control and come after Harry Potter with the insane idea that killing the boy would bring back the Dark Lord.  That aurors had arrived and rescued Harry Potter and two other Hogwarts students, one who had been cursed badly by Crouch Jr.

There was no mention of the Dark Lord returning.

Everyone was sitting fat and happy, at least outside of Hogwarts.

Inside - inside it was different.

Potter had shared his story.  The news that two famous aurors had quit was not widespread; the Minister hiding it as best he could.  But every student knew it.  Dumbledore had announced at dinner that Harry Potter was speaking the truth.  He'd even shared the news of Hermione Black's status, though he'd hidden the details.

The school had divided into three categories fairly quickly.

He didn't think those that were trying to remain neutral would last for long.  Not once He made himself known.

"Interesting choice of books.  I do not remember seeing skin-based hexes on the OWLs."

Draco jumped and looked up to find his head of house staring down at him, black eyes glittering.

He was screwed.

Professor Snape was a Death Eater.

"Well, um, I was curious..."

PLUNK!

A thick black tome with peeling lettering on its dark leather cover landed in front of him on top of the book he'd closed earlier in disgust.

"Return it to Madam Pince when you are finished.  She knows you have my permission.  As does the tome."

Professor Snape spun on his heel and swept down and aisle, his black cloak billowing behind him.

Draco didn't think he'd ever been so confused in his life.

Tentatively, afraid of what he might find, he shifted the books around until the ancient tome was resting on the table in front of him.

While the cover was illegible he could make out an ornate letter 'P' and what looked like an 'r' next to it.

He carefully opened the tome and began moving through it.  There was no title page inside.  Merely a long list of initials with two years next to them.  Most of the initials ended with a P, but the last one was quite different.

 

S.S. 1977 -

 

He began to suspect what he was holding.  And it rather terrified him, the implications of it. 

He didn't know how long it took him to find the page he was looking for, but eventually he did find it.

It was the handwriting on the page that made him pause, thoughts coiling in his mind, just under the surface.

He saw that handwriting written on the board in every potions lesson he'd ever had.

The description given for the curse was extremely detailed and horrific.  He felt bile rise in his throat as the description merged with what he had heard of Black's situation.

And there, listed at the bottom of the page, was a recipe for a potion.

The cure.

And it took three weeks to brew.

She could be driven insane by then.  But what other option was there?

It would be easy for him to obtain the ingredients.  His potions kit contained quite a bit more than the standard student package.  He liked having options, and Snape never searched his Slytherins too much.

As he copied down the recipe for the cure he ran through places in the school where he could brew it.  

Anywhere in the dungeons was out.  He couldn't risk anyone realizing what he was doing.

His mind was still contemplating this question as he packed up his bag and left the library, handing the tome to a suspicious Madam Pince as he went.

Where could he go to in the castle where no one else went? 

He didn't think of where he was going, his feet taking him where they wanted.  He always thought best while moving.

He was dimly aware of Gregory and Vincent following him; he'd almost forgotten they'd been in the library with him. 

He'd made sure to frisk them to ensure they couldn't eat in there and get him banned for a week again.

He was somewhere up high in the school, looking around and wishing he had his own privste potions lab when Vincent let out a shout of surprise.

Draco's head jerked up, his hand going for his wand.

"That-that door!  It just showed up!"

Draco scowled and relaxed, "Vince, it's a magical castle.  Rooms move around all the time."

"Not like that," Vincent argued, "it just sort of...shimmered."

Draco rolled his eyes. Honestly!  He saw doors pop around all the time.  Once he'd even watched one slide down the wall whenever anyone got too close. "Oh, fine.  Greg, go open it."

Gregory loyally trooped over to the door and yanked it open.  When nothing happened Draco came close enough to see in.

It was a potions lab.

Outfitted with everything he'd need to cure Black.  

He turned to leave.  "Just a normal room.  Let's go."

About ten feet down the corridor he turned and looked back.  The door was gone.

He grinned.  If it was there when he came back later he knew exactly where to brew the potion. 

He'd just have to find a way to keep Vince and Greg from realizing who he was brewing for.

Not the hardest task, but even they weren't complete idiots.

XXX

"Harry, mate, you awake?"

Harry groaned and looked up from the map he'd been studying.  "Yeah, give me a minute."

"You know if we go down without you Ginny will chew our ears off," Neville said.

Harry rolled his eyes and quietly tapped the map, "Mischief Managed."

"Harry!"  The bed curtains were shoved out of the way to reveal Ron and Neville staring down at him.

They took in the dark shadows under Harry's eyes and the map lying spread out in front of him.

"Did you even sleep?" Neville asked.

Harry sat up and rolled off the other side of the bed.  He pulled off his wrist brace.  "Of course I slept.  Just woke up early.  Thought to check the map."

Ron groaned, "You were spying on Malfoy again."

Harry began to get dressed, "He's up to something.  Who wakes up at 5:00 am by choice?"

"An overachiever who is cramming for their OWLs?" Neville asked.

Harry shot him a glare, "He's not an overachiever.  Hermione is the best in our year."

"And Malfoy is the only one that even comes close to meeting her grades," Neville countered.

Harry ignored that.  He grabbed his bag and stuffed his map and cloak into it. 

"Our last exam is tomorrow.  Today is Defense and you can't study alone for that, not really.  And tomorrow is History, who cares about that?"

Ron handed Harry his sling, "Mate, you know if Hermione was here she'd be cramming.  Stop thinking about Malfoy and focus on your own exams.  You need to do well.  Think what she will say when she comes back if she learns you were slacking on your exams because you were stalking Malfoy."

"If she comes back," Harry muttered quietly under his breath.

The truth was, he was beginning to give up hope.  It had been a month now since the graveyard and they'd made no progress in curing her.  He could feel the wards weakening from the constant stress, and his inability to sleep for long wasn't helping them.

Silently he followed his friends to the common room, where they met up with Ginny before heading down to breakfast.  Ginny kept shooting Harry worried glances, but said nothing.  

Malfoy appeared near the end of breakfast, and Harry wished he'd been able to have the map out.  Malfoy kept disappearing on it, somewhere on the seventh floor and Harry was determined to figure out what he was up to.  He trusted Malfoy as far as he could throw him.  The more he thought about it, the more he was sure that Malfoy would follow in his father's footsteps.

It just made sense.

People followed their families.  Padfoot was the exception, not the rule.

After breakfast they lined up outside the Great Hall as they got it ready for the exams.  Harry watched as Pansy approached Malfoy and tried to talk to him, but the pale-haired boy appeared distracted.  As Harry studied him he saw dark shadows on the Slytherin boy's face that mirrored his own.

What was he up to?

The question plagued him throughout his exam.  Luckily he could answer all of the exam questions in his sleep.  Questions like 'What are the differences between a wolf and a werewolf?' were practically a joke to him.

When he finished he set down his quill and looked around.  Everyone else was still working so be looked up to the front of the room.  He found himself staring curiously at a plump witch in pink robes, a large bow in her hair.  

He didn't think she'd been there during any of the other exams.  

She was standing off to the side, not walking among the students, a clipboard in her hands.  When she glanced over at him her brows lowered in a frown and she wrote something on the clipboard.

He felt an instant spur of disgust.  This woman reminded him of Neville's toad.  And much as he liked Trevor, the same qualities that made a good toad did not make a good person.

The toad woman continued to scan the Great Hall until time ended and the students were released.  Occasionally she wrote things down, but Harry got the feeling that she wrote the most whenever she looked at him.

It reminded him of what Professor Dumbledore had said about the ministry and them being determined to discredit him.  So far they'd done quite a bit in the newspaper, but the gossip mill was spinning in the opposite direction.  Many wondering how the Harry Potter, the adopted son of one of the greatest aurors of this century would suddenly start hallucinating the rebirth of his parent's murderer.  

Crouch Jr. escaping custody last week while being transported to Azkaban had only fed the rumors that he hadn't been working alone.

Harry couldn't help but grin at the image of Fudge wringing his hands and trying to fight rumors when he didn't even have solid evidence to counter them.  

With those thoughts in mind he quickly left the Great Hall and took himself off to their classroom to kill time until lunch.

Ron, Neville, and Pansy met up with him there.  At Pansy's request the four of them ran through the spells they were fairly sure would be on the practical exam before heading down to lunch.  

Lunch went quickly and before Harry knew it he was in a line outside the Great Hall, waiting for his name to be called.

Four students were being tested at a time, when Harry was called in he saw Pansy and the Patil twins.  Malfoy had already finished.  

Somehow he wasn't surprised to see the toad woman standing next to the wizard overseeing Harry's exam.

"Mr. Potter, let's start with a shield charm."

"Hem hem."

The wizard scowled at the toad. "Yes?"

The toad pursed her lips and gestured at Harry's sling, "I but wonder, why are you making him take this exam.  He is obviously injured."

The wizard's bushy eyebrows moved up his forehead and he looked at Harry, "Mr. Potter, does the sling prevent you from performing any spells?"

"No, sir.  I'm right-handed."  He raised his right arm, showing his wand at the ready.

The wizard nodded, "Very good.  A shield charm, please."

The test proceeded silently after that, but the toad kept scowling and writing things on her clipboard.  Every time the quill would scratch across the parchment the testing wizard would scowl and shoot her an evil look.

"Very good, Mr. Potter.  You may go."

Harry turned to leave, but was stopped by the toad woman.

"Mr. Potter, I hope you understand that cheating on your OWLs disqualifies them.”

Harry froze and turned to stare at the toad with shock and disbelief.  "Excuse me?"

She gestured at his left arm.

"What are you implying, Miss Umbridge?" the testing wizard asked.

She looked down at her clipboard, "His performance, obviously.  He performed all spells with a hundred percent accuracy.  That simply isn't possible."

Harry gaped at her, "Are you saying that just because I knew the material, I cheated?"

"What other reason is there?" the toad asked.

"He mastered the material,” the wizard stated.

She put on a simpering smile, "Why, Mr. Clarington, you know as well as I do that no one ever masters all of the spells perfectly.  The test is designed to not allow that."

"How do you think I cheated?!?"  Harry growled, anger rising up inside him.

She shrugged, "That will have to be investigated, but until then I will have to put a hold on your exams."

Harry saw red.

"No."

She looked at him in amusement, "No?  And what do you plan to do about it?  Unless you can prove you didn't cheat?"

"I can."

Harry reached up and removed his sling.  He tentatively moved his wrist around.  He was supposed to keep it on until he visited St. Mungos on Saturday, but he'd rather reinjure it than let this toad woman and the ministry win.

Sure that it wouldn't suffer without the sling he removed his outer robes and rolled up his shirt sleeves to reveal bare forearms.

"I either cheated by having help in my sling, as you implied, or by getting my hands on the exact spells I’d be asked to perform.  Either way I can prove I know Defense by now casting any defensive spell you tell me.  Minus the unforgivables, of course."

He didn't put it past this woman to try to make him break the law.

"Miss Umbridge, this is highly irregular," Mr. Clarington argued.

The evil little toad smiled, "He has offered.  Let him prove his honesty.  Start with the alternates."

Harry bared scowled before taking a deep breath and ignoring everything but the wand in his hand and Mr. Clarington's voice calling out spells and describing scenarios that would require him to use a certain spell.

The toads face began to sour the longer it went on.  Harry found himself very grateful for Padfoot's summer training.  Between that and his own natural strength in defense he was more than prepared.  Finally Mr. Clarington's voice stopped.

Harry looked up to see a furious Miss Umbridge, her sausage like fingers gripping the clipboard tightly in frustrated anger.

"Does that satisfy you, Miss Umbridge?  A number of those are NEWT level spells," Mr. Clarington said.

It took a moment for the toad to get her composure, but it didn't really surprise him when she said, "The ministry will still need to investigate."

"This is hogwash!  Wait until my father hears about this!"

Harry's head snapped around to see Pansy standing nearby, hands on her hips and a scowl on her pug-like face.

Miss Umbridge stared at Pansy in confusion, "Excuse me, who are you?"

"Pansy Parkinson, and I know quite well that the ministry has never once involved itself in possible cheating on OWL or NEWT exams before.  Also, he just cast TRIPLE the amount of spells we had to," she gestured at herself and the Patil twins, “and he didn’t fail at any of them!”

"Miss Parkinson?  As in Roy Parkinson's daughter?"

"Yes," Pansy stated firmly, glaring back at the toad.

"If you still think I'm cheating, why don't you make me duel someone you trust.  Perhaps yourself?"  Harry asked.

The toad's eyes were glued on Pansy, "No, Mr. Potter, that won't be necessary.  I am convinced you weren't cheating."

"If that's settled, you four may leave.  Send in the next four," Mr. Clarington stated.

Harry grabbed his sling and robes before storming out of there.  Was Fudge so desperate to prove Harry a liar that he'd try to falsely accuse him of cheating?  And why defense?  Surely they knew he would do well in that subject.  He was a Potter and he'd been raised by Sirius Black.

"They likely knew you'd do well, and hoped that no one would believe it could be done without cheating.  Bloody idiots," Pansy said as they left the Great Hall.  Proving, once again, that she was some sort of mind reader.

The students waiting outside were very antsy after the long delay.  Ron tried to ask Harry what had happened, but he didn’t want to distract his friend so told him he'd explain afterwards.

Pansy went off to find Neville, so Harry slipped into a bathroom and pulled out the map.  As soon as he began searching it he found Malfoy passing nearby, likely heading upwards.  

He didn't even think about it.  He could worry about Fudge and Umbridge later.  This was his chance to find out what the ferret was up to.  

He stuffed the map in his bag, threw the cloak over himself, and raced to catch up with Malfoy.

XXX

The hairs on the back of Draco's neck prickled and he whipped around, pulling out his wand.

The corridor behind him was empty.

Was he just being overly sensitive?  The potion would be ready tomorrow.  Then he just had to figure out a way to get it to Hermione without getting his actions outed.

He continued on his way to the Special Room.  He couldn't believe his luck at finding it.  It had everything he needed and disappeared when he didn't need it. 

He walked past the correct spot a few times and then opened the door as soon as it appeared.

He walked into the room, but he immediately realized something was wrong when the door didn't swing closed right behind him.

He swung around to see the door standing open.  Then, as he watched, it resumed closing. 

He scowled. Someone had followed him.  

He didn't waste time thinking, he reached out and found his hand grasping delicate, silky fabric.  He yanked and then stumbled backwards as he found no resistance.

He landed rather unceremoniously on his rear, his right hand clutching his wand, his left holding an invisibility cloak.

And standing over him, wand in hand and a scowl on his face, was Potter.

"What are you up to, Malfoy?"

Draco scowled and started to get to his feet, only to be stopped by sparks shooting out of Potter's wand.

"Stay right there."

Potter looked around the room, taking in the bubbling cauldron and the neatly organized potion materials.  But Draco didn't dare move from his spot.  

Potter looked like he'd enjoy nothing more than destroying something.  And Draco preferred to stay in one piece, thank you very much.

His scan of the room complete, Potter looked down at Draco.

"What's the potion?"

There was no point in lying.  He opened his mouth to say it was a cure for Hermione, but nothing came out.

Bloody hell.

Stupid Family Tome.  Snape had only given Draco permission to see it.  That also meant only he could handle the potion until he got it to the right person.

"Well? I'm waiting.  And I'm not really in the mood to deal with anymore nonsense today."

Oh well, all he could do was try and see how much he could share.

"It's a potion."

Potter rolled his eyes, "I may wear glasses, but I'm not THAT blind.  Of course it's a bloody potion!  What does it do?"

"It's family magic."

Potter's eyebrows rose.  Draco was relieved to see he didn't try to raise only one eyebrow, like Black kept trying and failing to do.

"Malfoy family?"

Draco shook his head.

"Can you share the family?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, he shook his head.

Potter groaned, "Alright, is it going to hurt, injure, or kill anyone?"

Draco shook his head.

"Do you plan to give it to someone?"

Draco nodded.

"Can you say who?"

Again, nothing would come out, he cursed.  And then desperately looked around the room.  If he could just get Potter to realize the potion would save his sister!

He looked down and got an idea.  Against his better judgement he dropped his wand.  Potter took a step back in surprise.  

"Pay attention," Draco said, "and name the opposites.  Got it?"

Potter nodded.

"His."

"Hers?"

"Close."

"Her."

"Yes.  Your."

"My."

"You."

"I."

"Make it a short vowel."

"Okay."

Then Draco shifted his robes to reveal his trouser clad leg and pointed to his knee.

Potter frowned and moved his lips, obviously trying to work through the clues.

It didn't take him too long.

"Hermione.  It's a cure for Hermione..." The last bit was said in almost a whisper and Draco watched in shock as Potter dropped his wand and slumped to the ground, tears appearing in his emerald eyes.

Draco picked up his own wand and slipped it into his robes, but didn't say anything.  Instead he stood up and moved to the potion.  Checking it against the instructions, making sure it would be ready for the unicorn tail at 5:00pm.

"Draco..."

The pain-laden whisper made him jump.  He looked over to see Potter still sitting there.  He looked terrible.  His hair was lank and there were huge shadows under eyes rimmed-red by tears.

"Yes?"

"Will it be ready by Saturday?  She's weakening."

He tried to say yes, but it wouldn't come.  Stupid tome.

"Am I a Malfoy?"

Potter stared at him for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed, he laughed so hard he fell over.

Draco shifted from foot to foot for a moment before deciding to just ignore Potter.  He wasn’t quite sure how to deal with a hysterical person.  

Eventually the Gryffindor managed to get control of himself.  And pulled himself back up to a sitting position, but not standing up.

"Saturday I have an appointment for my arm at St. Mungos.  Wear this," he held up the invisibility cloak Draco had left on the floor, "and give her the potion.  I'm assuming only you have permission to touch it?"

"We can test that.  Come over here."

Potter scrambled to his feet and stuffed the cloak into his bag.  Draco couldn't help but wince at such rough treatment of such a rare item.

As they had predicted, Potter was unable to touch it.

"Well, I guess that means you have to come with.  Luckily I'm going on the Knight Bus."

"I suppose I have to if we want certain things fixed."

Harry frowned thoughtfully, "Malfoy, why are you doing this for her?  I know what I said before, but we both know you couldn't have done anything Ginny or I didn't do.  You can’t feel any guilt for not going with her."

"She's family.  Malfoys stick by their family."

"That's not everything.  You two are barely related.  You're more closely related to Ron.  She's not even a Malfoy."

Draco shrugged, "My mother likes her."

"That's not everything," he repeated.

"Yes, it is," Draco turned away from Potter and began carefully braiding the three unicorn hairs together.

Potter grabbed his arm and yanked him around, Draco almost dropped the hairs.

The Gryffindor was about an inch shorter than him and Draco found a pair of emerald green eyes blazing up at him.

"You have feelings for my sister, don't you?  You support your mother's plan."

Draco jerked his arm free and stepped back, laying the hairs back on his cutting board.

"No, I don't.  She and I vowed to treat each other as family.  I promised to never call her that derogatory term of a muggleborn or mention her parents' killer.  She swore to never support my mother's plan."

Those piercing eyes studied him, "But you didn't swear not to support it.  And a regular vow doesn't have to last forever.  It just informs the swearers if the vow is broken.  You ensured that if she ever had feelings for you, you would know."

"I didn't need to swear!  I never want to marry your sister!  I could never marry a woman like her!"

Potter took a step closer, "A woman like her?  What's that supposed to mean?  A woman that can outsmart you?  One that's more dangerous than you'll ever be?  If that's how you feel, maybe you need to take a look at yourself.  And at your own parents."

"What's that supposed to mean, Potter?!?"

Potter searched his face and then threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter, "You don't know, do you? Honestly, how can she think you're a match for Hermione?  Who do you think is in charge of your parents' marriage?"

That was easy, "My father, obviously."

Potter rolled his eyes and stepped back, "Take another look.  You're seeing what they want you to see.  I'll meet you in Hermione's classroom at 9:00am on Saturday.  Good luck on History tomorrow."

Draco had no response as Potter left the room.

What did he mean, 'Take another look'?  His father was in charge.  They lived in his father's house.  His father was heavily involved in politics, his mother only left the house for social calls.  His mother never interfered in his father's business.  Right?

Doubts settled on his shoulders, but he pushed them away and turned back to braiding the unicorn hair.  

Potter was just saying things.  That was all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I'm not drawing out Draco's search. And yes, Snape does have a reason for helping Draco. Oh, and yes, Umbridge will be back. We're not through with her yet. Or, rather, she's not through with trying to screw over Harry.
> 
> And thank you, to everyone that said such nice things last week. I'm dealing with the knowledge. But I'm also writing to deal. I've written a little Drarry two-shot (I just love Draco), so if you enjoy that pairing, check it out - 'Unspoken Words'. I'll get the second part up within the next 24 hours. Just trying to end it on the right note.
> 
> I also kept busy this week by making a cover. It's on my tumblr and Wattpad (same name - Enigmaticrose4).
> 
> Enjoy!


	20. Hermione's Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco sneaks into St. Mungos.

Draco quickly turned and pressed himself to the wall, narrowly missing a mediwitch racing by, her arms heavily laden with potions.

Trying to maneuver through a crowded hospital while invisible was much harder than he thought it would be.

How in Merlin's name did Potter use this in Hogwarts?

It didn't help that he'd had to ride the lift up to the proper floor.  And it took about ten minutes before someone selected the floor he wanted.  Why did so many people want to go to the tea room?

Once again he wished he could just hand the potion to Potter to administer.  

But, no, stupid, bloody family tome.

Why had Snape even shared it with him?  There were only two possibilities, and neither of them filled him with comfort.  Either the Dark Lord had a sinister plan for getting Potter's sister cured, or Snape was not quite as loyal as the Dark Lord believed.

He carefully moved around a corner and scanned the small waiting room with the mediwitch station.  

Ah, there.

Behind the desk was a map of the floor, with names written on each room.  H. Black was in room 412.

He moved down the hallway, upon reaching Black's room he found the door slightly ajar.

He leaned forward and pressed his ear to the crack.  He could hear nothing, so he assumed it was empty.  

He looked around to make sure no one was nearby before slowly pressing on the door.  When the gap was big enough he slipped in, pulling the cloak tight around himself.  

All he needed now was for it to catch on the door latch.

The room was empty except for a curtained off area, where he assumed Black was.  

He slowly closed the door, making sure to leave it the way he found it.

Silently he crossed the room and peaked through the curtains.

He had to be in the wrong room.  There was no way that this skeletal figure was Hermione Black.  

He glanced at a clipboard hanging on the end of the bed.

It was her.

Her hair had been cropped short, close to her head.  And her face was sickeningly pale.  It kept contorting into a pained frown before relaxing. Her hands were tied to the bedrails and as he watched they curled into claws and shook the bed as they reached for her bandage clad abdomen.  After a few seconds she relaxed again.

Draco felt sick.

Potter hadn't been lying when he said she was weakening. If the potion had taken any longer to brew it would have been too late.  

His hands were shaking as he approached the bed.  

Her tossing and turning had pushed the thin hospital blankets to the floor.  She was clad in a pair of hospital pants and a too big button up nightshirt that had been cropped at the bottom of her ribcage.  Bandages soaked in some sort of sickly orange potion were wrapped around her waist.  

Only her small, pale face was visible.  They’d put gloves on her tense, claw-like hands

Her extremely prudish modesty was preserved.

He looked around the room and saw a chart with times and names listed.  It looked like he had a good thirty minutes before they came to check on her.

He took a deep breath and slipped the cloak off before opening his small satchel bag and pulling out his supplies.

The potion had to be directly applied to where the curse had hit, and then it took ten minutes to set.

That meant he had twenty minutes to get those bandages safely off and wash away the orange potion.

He took a deep breath and got to work.

He pulled out a pair of scissors and began cutting through the bandages.  It was slow going.  He had to pause every time he felt her tense, since she always moved afterwards.

During one of those times he looked up at her face and was struck with the sudden realization that Black was rather delicate and petite.  Her presence, her modest robes, and long black hair always made her seem bigger.

It didn't help that he remembered her being taller than him when they were younger.  But he was now taller than Potter, and he knew Potter was taller than his sister.

How could such a powerfully dangerous person be so fragile looking?  How could she be made so helpless?

He shook his head and got back to work.  

It took about five minutes to get the bandage pulled back to reveal a thick layer of orange goop.

He grabbed the bowl he'd brought and filled it with water from his wand, then he began carefully washing away the goop, soaking the bed in the process.

He gagged and almost vomited when he got a good look at her skin.

From right under her navel to about three inches above it her skin was covered in angry-looking red bumps, interspaced with long, half-scabbed over cuts.  So many cuts that he could swear he saw her innards.  He wasn't a mediwizard, but even he could tell the cuts were self-inflicted.

Had Snape invented this curse?  Or had he just found it in his family tome and shared it?  Was it in more family tomes?

No, it couldn't be.  Sirius Black had control of the Black tome.  If he had the spell and cure he'd have healed her already.

Once the last of the goop was washed off she began moving more violently. 

He began to grow worried that someone would hear and come in.  

He rushed to grab the potion he'd made; almost dropping it as he pulled out the cork.  His breath quickened as she made the bed shake.

" _Silencio_ ," he hissed.

He aimed the spell at the bed, and thankfully it worked.  

He hurriedly began applying the potion all over the affected area, and quite a bit of the clear skin around it.  

He wasn't taking any chances. 

The more potion he put on her, the more frustrated she grew.  Her face was contorted in pain and her hands were clawing at the air in an attempt to reach her stomach.  

Abruptly her eyes opened.  A silent scream emerged from her and he took a step backwards in fear.

He glanced at a clock on the wall and saw he had twelve minutes.

His eyes raced over Black's stomach, avoiding her silently screaming face as he tried to spot any place that wasn't covered in blue liquid.  

Once certain he hadn't missed a spot he began stuffing everything back in his satchel.  

He stood there, satchel over his shoulder and invisibility cloak in his hands, unable to move from the fear that he had done the exact opposite of what he had intended.

There was no way this potion was helping her.  She was in such pain...

His heart gave a lurch.

A fool!

He'd been a fool to trust Snape!

Her struggles grew more violent, the bed began to move silently across the floor.  Her body was so tense that at times she was barely touching the mattress.

He'd failed, again.

He was dead.

Potter would kill him.

Blood rushed to his head and then he began to hyperventilate. 

Air!  He couldn't get enough air!

He staggered and grabbed the curtain, ripping it from the ceiling.  The pop, pop, pop of it coming lose was barely audible through the blood rushing through his head.

He hung there, holding on to the broken curtain, air failing him, and watched Hermione silently scream and flail.

And then, just when he thought it could get no worse, it all stopped.

Hermione Black went completely slack, her soft brown eyes staring blindly at him.  As he watched the blue potion began to disappear as it was slowly sucked into her skin.  

When it was all gone only pale, flawless skin remained.

Distantly he heard footsteps and shouting coming towards him.

He didn't think, he let go of the curtain and stumbled away, grabbing the cloak off the floor and throwing it on.

Just as the last bit of him was hidden Potter came flying through the door.

"Hermione!"

He yanked back the remnants of the curtains around the bed and then gasped.  Sirius Black, and their old Defense professor, Remus Lupin, were right behind Potter.

Draco didn't stick around to see if the potion had worked or not. 

He needed air.

He rushed out, being careful to dodge the pair of mediwitches rushing towards Black’s room.

He needed to get out of there, and fast. 

If they found him and she was cured the Dark Lord would murder him and his parents.  If she was dead, Potter would kill him.

Either way, he was screwed if he stuck around.

He didn’t even wait for the lift this time, instead he just pushed the buttons and jumped on – making a wizened little old witch frown in confusion at the lift buttons.

He just made it out of the hospital on the heels of a young couple holding a sleeping infant.  He hurried down the muggle street, dodging pedestrians the entire way, until he reached an alleyway.  Ducking inside he leaned back against the brick wall and took deep, shuddering breathes.

The air stunk of garbage and rank water, but he didn't care.  

He was outside.

He couldn't change what he'd just done.  Either he'd failed or he'd succeeded.  Either way, he'd done his duty. He needed to get back to school before he was missed.  His parents' lives depended on it. 

He pulled off the cloak and stuffed it in his bag.  He was very thankful he’d decided not to wear robes today.  He’d thought they’d make moving under the cloak more difficult, so he’d dressed in a pair of linen slacks and a well-tailored cotton button-up.

He pulled out his comb and ran it through his hair, changing it enough that he wouldn’t be instantly recognizable as Draco Malfoy.

Then he took off walking. 

He wanted to be far away from St. Mungos before he summoned the Knight Bus, just in case aurors came asking questions.  
After about twenty minutes of walking he found himself at one of the many entrances to Hyde Park.  Clouds were rolling in and more people were leaving the park than were entering it.

He didn't mind a little wet, so he crossed the street and entered the park.  The lack of traffic lights and noisy motor vehicles made it a much safer place to walk through.

Just as he was passing the Serpentine water began to leak from the sky.  He quickened his steps, moving along the gravel path as quickly as he could without actually running.

His shoes were not made to run in.

He was thoroughly soaked by the time he left the park.

Honestly, he was grateful for the rain.  The streets were rather empty, and it didn't take too much walking to find a deserted one. Nor did he have to deal with any muggles.  

He glanced around and made sure there were no muggles peeking out of windows or sitting in one of their odd motor vehicles.  Certain the area was empty he pulled out his wand and stuck it out into the street.

BANG!

He ignored whatever Stan Shunpike was spouting, he'd already heard it earlier, not that anyone but him and Potter knew that. 

"Hog's Head, Hogsmeade," he said as he pushed some coins into the bumbling boy's hands.

"Hey!  Dontcha want yer change?"

Draco shook his head and pushed his way to the back staircase.

There were quite a few wizards and witches on the bus, but he moved past them quickly, keeping his head down.

Hopefully no one would realize that this sodden, robeless boy was the heir to the Malfoy family.

Another blessing the rain had brought him.

He found a plush armchair on the third floor with its back to the other passengers.  He curled himself into it and stared out the rain spotted window as the English landscapes raced past.

Now that he wasn't moving his hands began to shake.  He tightened them into fists and pulled them close to his torso.

He really, really hoped the potion disappearing meant it had worked. And worked in the way he wanted it to.

Otherwise, he was dead.

However, the scariest thought of all, one he kept trying to push to the back of his mind, was that he wasn't sure if he wanted the potion to be the cure because it meant he got to live, or because it meant Hermione Black got to live.

He closed his eyes and all he could see her sunken, pale face screaming in silent pain.

He gasped and opened his eyes again.

What was wrong with him?

XXX

She was floating.  Looking around she could see a golden wall surrounding her.  Warmth emanated from it and she smiled.

She knew that warmth.  It had been protecting her for a very long time.  She closed her eyes and could hear a distant humming.

Yea, it was Harry.  He was with her.

She was safe.

There was no time in this warm cage, only peace and love.

Until the wall began to fall.

A jolt of pain flashed through her, she gasped and opened her eyes.

Everything looked fine.  She closed her eyes again.

Floating.

Until it happened again.

And again.

Slowly the pain grew stronger and longer.  

With her eyes open she could see the wall thinning, weakening.

Harry.

And then the wall was gone, and pain was all she knew.

She screamed as flames raced over her, searing her flesh.

She struggled, trying to reach the flames, to put them out, but something was restraining her.

She opened her eyes and screamed at the sight before her.

A blue inferno was pouring out of a pale-scaled dragon.  She screamed and fought, trying to escape the fire she knew was going to burn her to a crisp.

Blue light seared her eyes and she squeezed them shut, fighting as hard as she could to escape.

But then…

The pain was gone.

Sweet coolness flowed over her, coating her skin and smothering the flames.

She went limp.

Her eyes opened to reveal a body coated in blue flames that did not burn.  As she watched the dragon disappeared, its job was done.

She smiled and relaxed, closing her eyes as she heard a distant voice call her name.

Harry, he was here.

He’d take the place of the dragon that saved her.

XXX

Narcissa looked up from her cup of tea to watch the flames in the fireplace turn a brilliant green.

“Narcissa.”

She placed the cup on a saucer and approached the dark-haired man’s head.

“Severus.”

He tilted his head back painfully to look at her.  She pulled up a stool and took a seat, so he wouldn’t pull out his back.

“I told you that I shared the cure, as you requested.”

She nodded, “Yes, and that was almost three weeks ago.  Is the potion finished?”

“Draco is nowhere to be found and Mr. Potter had an appointment at St. Mungos today.”

Her eyes narrowed, “And no one but Draco had permission to use the potion?”

Severus’ lips quirked, “Aside from you, only he knows there is a cure to the curse.  You never did tell me how you knew there was one.  Or that I would be willing to share it.”

Her own lips twisted in response, “I know you, Severus.  My sisters and I have always had a talent for reading people.  You’d never create a potentially deadly spell without giving it a cure.  You’re too careful and detailed to give up control of one of your own creations.”

“You do know that if the Dark Lord learns of this he will not be pleased.”

She studied the black eyes glittering in the fire’s glow.  She couldn’t have read this man incorrectly.  He had agreed to do as she asked with very little persuasion.

No, she was right.

“I also know that I won’t tell him.  Nor will you.”

His dark gazed pierced hers, and she felt him push at her mind.  She smiled, and let him see what she suspected.

As soon as he had seen it he yanked himself out.

“You’re rather astute for a society housewife.”

She arched one delicate eyebrow at him, “No one ever sees a snake in the grass.”

“Rather poetic.”

“Indeed.”

She stood up and smoothed out her robes, signaling the conversation was over, “Send me an owl if Draco fails to return to Hogwarts.  Otherwise, I shall see you another time.”

His head tilted in response and then he was gone, leaving her alone

She moved over and stood in front of the window, staring out at the wet countryside.  She’d worried for years that something was going to happen.  She’d heard about the Dark Lord’s attack on Hogwarts during Draco’s first year.  She’d known he wasn’t dead, but she’d hoped…

Oh, she had hoped she’d have more time.  Time to show Draco that true power did not lie in the arms of a madman.  That he didn’t have to blindly follow in his father’s footsteps.  Time to show Lucius that the future was more important than the past.

At least she’d had enough time to make her husband see some reason.  Even if he had failed to tell her about Hermione being cursed.  She knew, ultimately, that he’d always put his own flesh and blood first.  She just hadn’t been sure if he knew that.

Malfoys stood by their family. 

But Blacks got even.

And she may have married a Malfoy, but she was born a Black.

She was going to find out who hit her future daughter-in-law with _Ardens Prurigine_ , and then she was going to curse them with it.  She was going to curse them with it and watch as they tried to rip their own insides apart to stop the itching.

She smiled at her own reflection in the rain-coated window.

Oh, yes, she would enjoy that sight very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is cured, we know who is - sort of - pulling Snape's strings, and Draco is beginning to have some realizations. I hope ya'll found the hospital sequence to be believable. Also, Narcissa may be on Hermione's side, but she is certainly not a nice person. I apologize for posting on Sunday this week. I was out of the house all day on Saturday.
> 
> And thank you to everyone that's been reviewing and leaving kudos. Posting these chapters is one of the brightest moments in my week right now.
> 
> Enjoy!


	21. Summertime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has some interesting conversations, Hermione works on regaining her strength, and the summer flies by.

The Slytherin common room was a bit on the subdued side.  Almost all of the exams were finished, but seventh years still had a week left for their NEWT exams and they were threatening to curse anyone that interrupted their study time.

Draco was entertaining himself by reading a practically ancient tome on spell invention.  It was very obscure, but he was beginning to see how one went about creating spells.

It certainly wasn't easy, but it was distracting.

He was ensconced in one of the armchairs near the fireplace as the seventh years were using almost all of tables.  Gregory and Vincent were nearby, sitting on a couch and imitating the mountains he knew people called them.

He didn't know how they could sit and do nothing for hours.

They were a bit put out with him, since he'd disappeared on them all day yesterday.

But he couldn't exactly tell them what he'd been up to.

Currently no one at Hogwarts had heard about Black or Potter.  Though it had been noted that the-boy-who-lived was missing.

Draco hoped that was because Black had woken up.  And not for other, more tragic reasons.

"Draco."

He looked up to see Pansy standing in front of him, a small, happy smile on her face.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tracy Davis watching them, so he affected his most bored expression, "Yes?"

"I thought you'd like to know, Hermione has been cured."

The quiet murmur that had pervaded the sitting area quickly disappeared.  Draco could feel multiple pairs of eyes on them

Some friendly, others curious, but most were actively judging him.

Morgana take Pansy!  Why did she have to tell him this in public?

He kept looking bored, "So?"

She stared silently at him, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"So? So?!!  What do you mean, so?!?"  Her voice got louder and higher pitched with each word, drawing even more eyes.

"Just that.  Why should I care?"

It took a second, her staring at him, and then he saw a spark of realization in her eyes before it was quickly smothered.

Bless her.

She crossed her arms and frowned, "You don't care that your cousin is healed?  That she isn't going to die?"

He shrugged and closed his book, keeping his finger in to mark his spot.  "She's only my cousin through adoption.  We're barely related."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!  That is a terrible thing to say!"

He scoffed, "What?  You start hanging out with Potter and Pals and you get to judge me now?"

"You're a Malfoy!  You are all about taking care of family!"

"I repeat, she's barely family.  She's adopted."

"Then you wanted her dead?"

He shrugged, "I couldn't care either way."

Her face turned red and she spun on her heel.  He watched as she disappeared down the passageway leading to the girls' dormitory.  

As soon as she was out of sight he opened his book back up and began reading.  Or, rather, pretending to read.  Inside of his head he was dancing with joy and he felt practically weak with relief that she was alright.

It had worked.

Snape hadn't tricked him.

He crossed his legs and propped the book against his knee, trying to hide the tremor his hands were betraying.

A scrapping of a chair against the stone floor made him look up.

"Interesting conversation."

Theo Nott said this as he planted himself firmly in the hunter green armchair.  He had moved it so close that their knees were practically touching.

Draco let out an audible sigh and closed his book once more, giving Theo a bored expression.

"What do you want?"

Theo shrugged, "Not much."

"Then why don't you move away?"

Theo smirked, "Now, why would I do that?"

"We aren't friends.  Nor are we enemies.  You have no reason to be speaking with me."

"Yet."

Now Draco was intrigued and confused.  What was Theo playing at?  His dad was as much a Death Eater as Draco's father.  Was there some kind of junior Death Eater group he’d been ignorant about?

Had his acting just gotten him an invitation?

Bloody hell.

He tightened his hands on his book, trying to hide the fact they were still trembling a bit.

"Explain."

"You know, they say the apple doesn't fall from far from the tree."

Draco gave him a look he'd seen his father use quite often on the Minister when the silly man wouldn't get to the point.

Theo chuckled at that, "Amazing, you look just like him.  But consider this, what happens when the tree is on a hill?  Where does the apple go?"

"Is there a point to this?"

"Yes, now answer the question."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Obviously the apple rolls down the hill."

"And far away from the tree that gave it birth."

"Trees don't give birth."

"You know what I mean."

Draco gestured to the book in his lap, after making sure he was no longer trembling.  "Get on with it, Theo.  I'm busy."

"Draco, how long have we known each other?"

"I don't know.  Forever?  I seem to remember you destroying my third birthday cake by flying into it on MY new toy broom."

"Exactly."  He leaned in and dropped his voice so low that Draco had to lean in to hear him.  "We've never been friends, but I'm fairly certain I know you.  And that means I know when you're lying."

A sliver of fear ran down Draco's spine.

"Now, I will admit, you're good, very good.  If I hadn't been paying such close attention I never would have noticed.  Even then, it took me remembering when we got caught breaking into my uncle’s secret room at my ninth birthday party.”  His eyes pierced Draco, “I know the truth.  You're glad Hermione Black is cured."

Draco closely studied the bony face of his old classmate.  True, he'd known Theo for as long as he could remember.  Their fathers moved in the same circles and were Death Eaters together.

Draco just wanted to escape the coming storm with his life and his family intact.  

What did Theo want?  And why was he confronting him here, in the middle of the Slytherin common room?

"That's an interesting idea."

Theo flashed him a smirk, "It's not an idea."  He pulled back and looked around the common room.  No one was staring at them, but they were earning a few looks from most of their housemates. 

He leaned in again, "We're both the sons of rather prominent Death Eaters, us speaking is not odd or unusual.  As long as we part amiably.  So I'm going to stand up and walk away, happy as can be.  You should drop that pinched look and return to your book."

Theo started to stand up, but Draco stopped him by grabbing his wrist. 

"What will you do with that information?"

The other boy smiled, "Nothing.  Just thought you should know that you're not the only apple in this snakepit."  He pulled his wrist free, "Now, excuse me.  I believe Tracy is trying to get my attention."

Draco watched Theo put the chair back where it belonged and amble off.  The boy had gained so many inches - without gaining a single pound - that he seemed to sway as he walked across the room to the settee Tracy and Daphne.  It reminded Draco of a tree in the wind.

And that thought just brought his mind back to what Theo had said about apple trees and hills.  Theo had never been one to be cryptic, not that this was the most cryptic conversation they could have.

Just what was his old playmate up to? 

Shoving the encounter out of his mind he returned to reading his book.  

XXX

Hermione stared idly at the clouds floating past the open window.

Her brain had so many thoughts, but it took too much energy to bring them up.  

For the first time in her life, she didn't want to think.  She didn't want to figure things out and discover what treasures the world held.

All she wanted to do was lie there and relish in the lack of pain.

She wasn’t floating.  The stiff cotton sheets rubbed against her face whenever she moved her head.  Contrasting with the soft flannel that made up her pajamas.  She could feel cool air coming through one of the small air tunnels in the ceiling, air was flowing over her skin, tickling the short hair covering her skull.

She didn’t want to think about her hair.

The clouds were so much nicer.

Soft and fluffy, with little wispy bits poking out.

None of the clouds had recognizable shapes.  

Yesterday they had.

She'd seen a toad chasing an owl across the window.  That had made her smile.  It reminded her of Neville and his toad.  Neville was a great friend.

So was Pansy.

She hoped they were happy together, whatever their relationship was.

Would she ever find anyone like that?

Harry and Ginny had each other.  That girl hadn’t even hesitated when it came to rescuing Harry.  In fact-

She cut off her own thoughts.  She didn’t want to go down that road, not right now.

Better to think of Ron and Luna.  They were so sweet together.  Whenever he got overprotective she easily pushed him back, but even Luna couldn’t deny that she needed someone that wasn’t quite as nice as she was.

When he found out her classmates were taking her things…

Hermione smiled at the reminder. 

Ravenclaw Tower was far more terrified now of Ron than they’d ever been of Fred and George.

"Hey, 'Mione, you awake?"

Her smile widened and she turned her head to see Harry standing in the doorway.  

"Sort of."

He smiled back, "At least you're answering me now."

She felt sadness overwhelm her at his words.  She didn't remember much of the past month.  Just pain, and then a familiar comfort, followed by more pain that only ended when her world became nothing but blue flames.

The healers had told her the flames likely represented whatever had cured her.  They assumed it was a potion applied directly to her skin since her bandage had been removed, as well as their anti-itching cream.  But they weren't sure.

They also couldn’t explain the dragon she’d seen.

Who had cured her?

As soon as she thought the question, she pushed it aside.  It didn't matter right now, she'd figure things out later, when she felt better.  There was time.

She had all summer.

"Was the past month hard?"

He shrugged and took a seat next to her bed, "In some ways, yes.  Luna kept trying to impersonate you."

She giggled at that, "I would've loved to see that."

"Maybe you can, I'm sure she'd be happy to keep doing it. Something about it expanding her mind to see things from your eyes."

She looked back over at the clouds floating past, "I feel like I'm seeing things from her eyes.  It’s rather freeing.  When will I see her?"

"Dumbledore could only get permission for me to leave school early from the Board of Governors.  They finish in about a week and a half. You should be home by then."

"Oh, I hope so."

She felt him reach out and take her hand.  He gave it a squeeze and she returned it.

“Hermione, about that night.  I-“

She cut him off, “Later.”

“But-“

She rolled her head back to look at him.

“Harry, please.  I can barely move.  If I start thinking, I won’t stop.  Later.  When I’m on my feet.  When I’m moving, walking, running.  Tell me what you need to then.  But, please.  Not right now.”

Tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes as she spoke the last few words.  She couldn’t do it.  She couldn’t think about anything.

Not yet.

Not until she could use the loo without assistance.

Not until she could raise her hand enough to use her wand.

Not now.

“Please,” she repeated.

He nodded, and squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back, but she knew he barely felt it.

She was so tired.

XXX

Draco opened his eyes and reached up, stretching.

Merlin did it feel good to be back home, in his own bed. The silk sheets whispered across his skin and he couldn’t help but groan in pleasure as he moved against them.

Honestly, why couldn’t Hogwarts supply more than just cotton sheets?

He’d discovered ever since he’d started school that the first morning back home was always the best.  You never truly appreciated what you had until you went without it.

He just lay there, luxuriating in the lazy comfort that summer brought, until a knock interrupted the sweet silence.

He frowned.  The house elves never knocked, and his parents rarely came to his room.

“Yes?”

“Are you decent?”

His frown deepened, the voice sounded extremely familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Um, sort of.”

“Explain.”

He glanced down at himself.  True, the sheets were covering him, but he rarely wore much to bed.  Not when he could help it.

An odd feeling on the back of his neck made him reach over to his nightstand and grab his wand, pointing it at the door.

“The sheets are over me…”

The door burst open and Draco jerked backwards and raised his wand.

Something flew towards him.

“ _Protego_!”

As he shouted the spell he rolled to the side, but he ended up getting tangled in his sheets and fell off the bed in a tangle of limbs and sheets.

A clear, tinkling laugh cut through the room, and Draco felt himself go red as he suddenly realized why he recognized the voice.

He pulled his legs free and then stood up, being sure to keep the sheet wrapped tightly around him.

Professor Alianore Roux, his defense teacher from the previous year, stood in the doorway with her wand in hand.

She looked him up and down and smiled, “I must say, your reflexes and instincts are quite good.  But as for your coordination…”

He scowled, “Professor, may I ask what you are doing here?”

“Oh, didn’t your father inform you?  He has hired me to tutor you in defense this summer.  I intend to return to France at the end of the summer.”

Draco couldn’t help but stare at her, “What?”

“Your training.  You’re running a bit late today, but I will excuse it as it is your first morning home.  Starting tomorrow I expect you to be dressed and ready for lessons by seven sharp.    We’ll be practicing until dinner six days a week.  Your father is giving me a great deal of coin to ensure that you can take care of yourself.”  She grinned at him, “And I make sure I earn my coin.  I want you to wear old, comfortable clothes.  Now,” she looked him up and down, “get dressed and grab a light breakfast.  I plan to put you through your paces, and find out just how much you really know.”

“But…but you saw me all year.  You know how much I know.”

She shook her head, her scarlet hair whipping about her as if in an invisible wind.  “No, I saw how much you know of the fifth year curriculum.  Not how much you know.  Feel free to use anything non-lethal today, understood?”

He nodded mutely, trying to wrap his brain around what was about to happen.  He’d expected to spend this summer much like all the previous ones.  That meant lots of alone, quiet time.  Time he wanted to use to work on spell invention and adaptation. 

But instead, it looked like he was about to spend all day, every day learning how to fight and defend himself.

The only good side was that if he did well, he might just survive the war.  And if he survived, he could make his family survived.

She disappeared, closing the door behind her.  He stared at the door for a moment before giving himself a quick shake and dropping the sheet. 

There was no doubt in his mind that if he took too long getting ready she would storm right back in.

Then she might just use something more dangerous than sparks.

And wasn’t that a scary thought?

XXX

Hermione took a deep breath and let go of the bar Padfoot had attached to the wall in the sitting room.  Her legs held firm.

She took a deep breath and relaxed, just standing there.

Yesterday she had managed ten minutes before her stomach had grown tired.  Whatever had cured her had also managed to remove every single abdominal muscle - or at least weaken them so much that she couldn’t do much at all.

She’d never realized just how many everyday activities required the use of those muscles. 

When she’d first gotten home she couldn’t even stand up from the toilet without help.

That had been almost two weeks ago.

Now she just needed someone to help her into the room and then shut the door.  She could pull herself up using the bathroom counter.

"We’re going to start with the pelvic tilt today."

She looked away from her feet and up at her physical therapist.

"Alright.”

Franklin Tonks was someone Hermione had only heard about.  She knew her Uncle Ted had a muggle brother, but had never had a reason to meet the man.

That was, until the magical world had failed her. 

St. Mungos had just told her to take it slow.  That she would get her strength back.  They could regrow bones and heal ligaments, but they couldn’t strengthen muscles with magic.  Maybe she’d add that to her list.  She’d have to think about it later.

When Aunt Andy had realized Hermione couldn't even sit up on her own she had been infuriated at St. Mungos.  She'd immediately contacted her brother-in-law, and he'd agreed to help.

Mr. Frank - he'd insisted she call him Frank, but she couldn't quite manage to be that informal with an adult - rolled a big rubber ball over and put it on the end of what he called a yoga mat. 

“I want you to put your feet on the ball today, rather than the floor.  If you can take my hand,” he held out his arm, “we’ll get you settled on the yoga mat.

She nodded and did as he said.  She'd do everything he told her if it got her back to normal.

XXX

Draco hit the ground and rolled, being careful to keep his wand from breaking.  He was on his feet again a moment later, his wand pointed at the evil red-haired witch that had just turned where he was standing into nothing more than scorched earth.

"You could have killed me with that!"

She laughed, "No, silly boy, you're much too fast to be hit like that.  Good job on the drop and roll.  You didn't trip on your robes this time."

He grimaced.  The first three dozen times he'd tried to recover from a drop and roll he'd eaten dirt because he'd forgotten he was wearing robes.

Honestly, robes were the stupidest things to fight in.

XXX

Harry spun and dodged the spell, spinning out of his outer robe as he went.  As soon as it was off he transfigured it into a piece of wood and sent it flying.

Tonks ducked, but just as it was about fly over her head he transfigured it back.

The robe fell and covered her.  She began to pull it off, but he was faster.

"Incarserous!"

Ropes appeared and twisted around her, holding the robe in place and trapping her arms to her body.  She teetered there for a moment, trying to keep her balance.  But the lack of sight plus the ropes holding her legs together dropped her.

As he watched she grew thinner and began to wiggle her way out of the mess of robe and ropes. 

"Petrificus Totalus!"

She immediately stopped moving and he grinned.  It was the first time he'd managed to beat her.

"Good work, Harry.  Now, let's get her untangled and go through the fight,” Mooney said, waving his wand and releasing the ropes holding Tonks.

Harry groaned, he hated going back through a fight.  He knew he'd made countless mistakes, even if he had won in the end.

XXX

Hermione aimed her wand at the training dummy. 

It exploded without her saying a word.  Just a nice, silent _Expulso_.  She grinned and looked over at Mrs. Longbottom.

"Very good, dear.  Now, Pansy, your turn."

Hermione moved out of the way for her friend and took a seat on the bench against the wall.  She'd been awake for over a month now, but she still tired easily.  Uncle Remus thought it was the spell that made her so weak, which explained why she could recover in what was a remarkably short time according to Mr. Frank.  Still, she spent the majority of her time sitting or lying down.  If she didn’t have all of her private projects, not to mention OWLs, she would have gone insane from inactivity.

She watched as her friends attempted to cast their own silent spells.

It took Pansy a few tries, but she made the dummy explode as well.  Luna was up next and she got it on her first try.  Ron took a bit longer.  It was only scorched on his first few tries.

"This really was a marvelous idea, wasn't it?" Pansy said, taking a seat next to Hermione after she had succeeded.

Hermione looked around the small classroom that somewhat resembled a muggle shooting gallery.  It really had been a great idea. 

"Yes, I heard Padfoot say he's gotten twenty new letters from prospective students around the world.  It's very hard to find a place like this that isn't run by the government."

"Very true, I'm surprised no one else has tried this before.  Also, love the name, The Marauders’' Academy: Dueling and Defense.  Nice of Mrs. Longbottom and Mr. Weasley to go along with that name."

Hermione shrugged, "Mrs. Longbottom and Padfoot are the two funding this and she thought it was rather fitting.  After all, two of the main instructors were the original marauders, and their star pupil is the son of another.   Plus, she said Neville's dad would have found the name entertaining."

"My father finds it rather fitting," Luna said as he joined them.  "He says that the unexpected method is always the best."

"Luna, your father is a genius.  Padfoot says he's the one that came up with this idea.  Back when Uncle Remus finished teaching at Hogwarts."  As Hermione said this she scooted over so Luna could sit on her other side.

"So, have they found someone to teach dueling?" Pansy asked.

Hermione giggled, "Apparently Professor Roux hasn't left for France yet.  Padfoot's been exchanging letters with her for the past month, trying to get her to come by for an interview.  I found a half-written one on his desk..." She giggled harder, "It's almost like he's courting her."

Hermione knew the two had never met, but she could see Professor Roux fitting right in with Padfoot and the other adults.

A loud bang rang through the small room.  Hermione jumped and looked up to see a small crater where the dummy was supposed to regrow from.

"I do believe we need to work on your control.  I would prefer to not replace the equipment before we’ve even opened our doors to the public.” There was just a hint of a scolding in Mrs. Longbottom’s voice, and that made Ginny flush a light pink.

"My sister is bloody dangerous," Ron said as he approached and took Luna's hand.  He pulled her up, then he promptly stole her seat.

She stood there, looking at him expectantly.

He grinned and pulled her back down to sit on his lap.

She shifted and got comfortable before replying, "She's a good match for Harry."

"Who's a good match for Harry?"  Ginny asked.

Hermione glanced up to see Neville waiting while his mother replaced the training dummy.

"You, of course.  Who else could come close to matching him on the dueling field?"  Pansy stated.

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Hermione of course."

Hermione snorted, "With the way I am now?  I doubt I could even beat Lockhart in a duel."

"You'll get stronger.  Every day you have more strength and stamina.  Besides, no one knows more spells and tricks than you do," Ron said.

"Yes, but I teach all of those tricks and spells to Harry as soon as I learn about them," she pointed out.  "And Harry thinks much better on his feet than I do."

"Point."

Hermione shot Luna a grin, that girl knew reality.

Well, she knew reality where it counted.  And for the rest they could depend on Ron to – hopefully - use his head and common sense.

“Hmph, when do you start your OWLs, ‘Mione?” Ron asked, cuddling Luna on his lap.

“Next week.  I have to travel up to Hogwarts for a week and they’ll give me the exams there.  It’s going to be rather odd to be the only student in the school.”

“I’ll bet, but at least you’ll have them done before classes start,” Pansy put in.

“Point,” Hermione answered, grinning at the Slytherin girl.  It was truly amazing how much this girl had changed in a year and a half.  Still, Hermione wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.

"Are you all ready to go another round?"

She looked up to see Mrs. Longbottom studying them, Neville by her side.  A dummy was regrowing down the lane behind them.

Hermione grinned and stood up, "Yes, please."

"Alright, be silent, but this time I want you to disarm it."

Mrs. Longbottom gave a wave of her wand and a stick appeared in the dummy's hand.

Hermione readied her wand and aimed it at the dummy.  

Time to get back to work - after all - summer wouldn’t last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there is their summertime before sixth year. Lucius decided to get his son some much needed training, and Sirius and company have opened up a new business. Sorry about not getting it up again on Saturday.   
> Once again: life.   
> In other, totally awesome news, I now have over 1000 people following this story on FFdotnet and here! But no one on Wattpad. Rather interesting.
> 
> Enjoy!


	22. New Marauders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius recruits a new instructor. Hermione reveals how she stayed sane all summer. Draco gets a surprise.

"You're very determined."

Sirius smirked, "I never give up."

She smirked back, "And I never surrender."

He leaned back in his brand new office chair, it still had a stiffness to it he was determined to get rid of.

"Yet you finally agreed to an interview."

"I agreed to an interview.  Who's to say I'm not the one interviewing you?"

Sirius gave a small bark of laughter.  He'd sent Alianore Roux an offer to teach after hearing Harry tell about his DaDA experience of the past year.  How the basic occlumency he and Hermione had learned in the 'detentions' had helped them when Harry was kidnapped.  How even now it was letting them work with and control their blood ward bond.

Anyone that could teach Harry to order his mind had to be an excellent teacher.

Not to mention all of her dueling awards.

"I never said I was interviewing you.  I decided to hire you after talking to Albus Dumbledore and my own children."

She scoffed, "Oh, really?"

"Really.  Harry knows defense and Hermione knows education.  Their words, combined with Albus' recommendation was enough."

She eyed him suspiciously. 

"You were one of the best aurors.  Only Alastor Moody outnumbered you on successful cases, but you were catching up, and still had many years to surpass him - if you hadn't resigned.  I've only ever taught children or dueled in monitored duels.  I plan to return to dueling.  Not teaching defense."

He opened a file in front of him and held up the contract inside.

"Dueling and teaching don't need to conflict each other. And I never planned to have you teach defense.  Remus has that under control, with my cousin, Tonks, assisting him.  Besides, this is an academy, not a school.  You can set your own times and even locations for classes.  You want to go to a dueling competition in Brazil?  Make it mandatory for everyone to participate.  Give them bonus points if they last longer than you.  Challenge them, do what you would like.  And, of course, these dueling field trips would be funded by the students' tuition.  Take a look."

She took the contract from him and began reading.

While she studied the contract, he studied her.  

She wasn't very big, that was for certain.  And her scarlet hair gave her a wild look that likely would terrify students if they angered her.  

And from her letters, he was fairly sure she'd fit right in here at the Marauder’s Academy.  

He still had trouble believing it was falling into place so well.  Especially since it had come from Xeno when they were all a bit sloshed.  

With Alice and him funding things and acting as co-directors, Remus and Tonks organizing the defense curriculum, and Arthur managing the actual academy, they were doing well.  They just needed an experienced dueler to handle the dueling side.

He heard Miss Roux gasp and he grinned.  She must have just seen the salary.

It was amazing what students were willing to pay to learn dueling and defense.  Not that they wouldn't offer some free basic classes.  It was good for taxes.  Not to mention that he thought everyone had a right to learn the basics of defending themselves against Death Eaters.  Also, it was a great way to train and recruit Order members.  Oh, and host Order meetings right under the nose of the Ministry - like they planned on doing later this afternoon.

"This can't be real."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, "It is.  And you'll see there's a bonus for every current student of yours that earns a medal in a competition.  Your classes will range from two to seven students.  Organize them how you like.  Also, in case you didn't see, you get a yearly bonus based on your student evaluations.  And you may use our facilities for your own purposes outside of normal class hours.”

He could tell she was trying to take it all in.  She was rather cute when shocked.

That thought made him pause.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd viewed anyone, male or female, as attractive.  Not that he was a monk, but pretty much anyone would do.

Hence why he normally stuck to Alice.  She had no interest in anything beyond satisfying needs.  She'd buried her heart when she buried Frank.  And his relationship with Remus had died back before James did.  They were just too different in their lifestyle choices.

"I may also get an assistant?"

He focused back in on the French witch across from him, "Yes, though, if you look at 7-B you'll see that your salary is decreased a bit - as are your bonuses - if you take on one."

"But I can choose who I would like?"

"Yes, they are your assistant.  And as long as they follow the basic contract we supply you may do as you wish with them."

She reached out and plucked a quill off his desk.  He watched in mild amusement as she dipped it in the ink and signed.

No hesitation.

She deserved to be a marauder. 

XXX

As soon as they were on the Hogwarts Express Hermione got to work.  

She'd spent all summer not thinking about tomorrow.  Just focusing on the present and regaining her strength.  

There was nothing she could do about Voldemort being back, or the smear campaign the Daily Prophet was running on Harry and, to a lesser extent, her and Ginny.  

Even the Daily Prophet wasn't stupid enough to think they could make three people look insane.

Her lack of true power hadn't stopped her from musing.  Or strengthening herself by working on something productive.

"Alright, we need a plan for this year.  Especially since we aren't all in the same house," she looked at Pansy and Luna as she said this. 

"Let me guess, you already have one," Ron said.

"Of course she already has a plan, she's just trying to make it sound like we have any input to be polite," Pansy said.

Hermione shot the Slytherin a scowl and then pulled a small drawstring pouch out of the knapsack Narcissa had given her years ago.

"I came up with this last summer, with some input from Luna.  This summer, while I was stuck in a sedentary position, I made more of them."  She opened it and pulled out another stack of the little pouches and passed one to everyone.  "There is no limit to what you can put in this.  The space is infinite.  I got the patent for it, and the twins are going to sell them for me, after the war, in their small 'Sirius Section'.  Along with the shield hats and such."

Ginny groaned, "Oh, Merlin, did they really go with that name?"

Harry chuckled, "Padfoot's head is going to get even bigger."

"As if that was possible.  Mum says if Padfoot's ego was any bigger he wouldn't fit in your house."

They all laughed at Neville's words.  One of Padfoot’s charms, but also a major fault, was his confidence.

"As I was saying," Hermione said pointedly when the laughter died down, "I made bags for everyone.  To retrieve something, picture the object in your head and reach your hand in.  You'll find it easily.  If you all picture a black notebook and reach in."

When they all had the notebooks in hand Hermione continued her explanation.

"All of these have an adapted protean charm on them.  I worked it out with the twins.  They also have two.  The main point of the notebook is communication."  She pulled out her travel planner and unsnapped the quill from it.  Then she opened her notebook and wrote:

_Marauders unite!_

Luna giggled as she grabbed the quill she always kept behind her ear and wrote.

_Moon!_

She passed the quill to Ron.

He groaned and wrote, in very small letters.

_King_

Luna smiled and kissed him on the check, before whispering something in his ear.  His face turned redder than his hair.

_Gred and Forge!_

Ginny laughed and swiped the quill from Hermione.

_Ginger!_

"Really?  That's original," Pansy said as she plucked the quill from Ginny's fingers and wrote in her own notebook.

_Snake_

"And yours is?"

Pansy rolled her eyes and ignored Ginny, passing the quill to Neville.

He stared at the notebook, thinking.

Harry took the quill from Ron and wrote the nickname that, according to Padfoot, his father had given him.

_Prongslet_

Neville smiled and then wrote.

_Grass_

Hermione frowned, "Why grass?  I get it's a plant, but it's not a very special one."

"Grass may not be special, but it's everywhere.  And it just doesn't go away.  Plus, snakes can hid in it."  

He looked at Pansy as he said that last bit, she smiled and gave him a hug.

"So, 'Mione, do you have a nickname?  In case anyone finds one of our books?" Harry asked.

"How about chessmaster?  Since she manages our lives like we were but pawns?" Ron asked.

Ginny snorted, "No, you’re the chessmaster here.  Has anyone ever beaten you at it?"

Ron puffed out his chest, "Never!"

They all chuckled at that.

Hermione hadn't really considered codenames for the notebooks, and she called herself a half a dozen names in her head for not thinking that.  But she didn't really want to immortalize any of those.

She tried to think of something fitting.  But there was nothing.

She was Hermione.

That was it.  Nothing else.

"What about phoenix?"

Hermione looked at Neville in surprise, "What?"

He shrugged, "You were a muggleborn named Hermione Granger, and then you almost died.  You became Hermione Black, heir to an ancient wizarding house.  You were reborn."

"That's putting almost too much though into it, Nev," Ron said.

Hermione ignored Ron and considered it.  No one but Harry and the healers knew about the blue flames and the dragon she'd seen when she was healed.  

Those flames hadn't hurt her, they'd healed her.  Restored her.  She had been reborn.

Twice, if Neville's words were taken as fact.

She decided to go with it. 

She took her quill back and wrote it in the notebook.

_Phoenix_

Neville shot Ron a grin, making the redhead grumble as Luna placed a consoling hand on his arm.

Hermione stuck her quill back on the planner and put it away.  

"Now, if we ever need to clear it, just tell it 'Mischief has begun."

Harry snorted in laughter, "Now you're just ripping off our parents."

She shrugged, "Don't fix what isn't broken."

"Point," Pansy and Ginny said together.  

Harry shot his girlfriend an annoyed look while everyone else laughed.

"Okay, back on target, please," Hermione said.  "If you put your hand in the pouch and think of a galleon you'll find a fake.  I charmed these with a protean charm.  They're for emergencies and short notice.  Watch."

She tapped her fake galleon and the numbers changed.

Several people yelped as their galleons heated up in their hands.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione!  Warn us next time!" Ron exclaimed. 

She frowned, “I had to make sure you could feel them through clothes.  But look at the serial code.  I set it as a date and time.  We can do words, too.  But that might arouse suspicion if anyone found them."

"You really thought this through," Neville stated. 

She shrugged, "I was already ready for my OWLs, and getting us outfitted and safe is more important than achieving the highest scores."

They all stared at her.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?" Harry asked.

"Harry got kidnapped, Voldemort is back, and I almost died.  School can wait.  Besides, I'm not worried about passing.  Professor McGonagall let me sign up for all the NEWT level classes I wanted.  She knows I'll get the required scores."

The continued to stare at her. 

She sighed and put her notebook and false galleon back in her pouch, then dropped it in her satchel bag.  

"I'm going to the bathroom, get over it while I'm gone, please."

She stood up and left the compartment in complete silence.  Honestly, they should know that bad things changed you.  

Especially Pansy and Harry.  

XXX

Draco sighed and looked out the windows.  He hated the train rides to and from Hogwarts, they were always so boring.

Usually he’d wander the carriages and find students to bother, but he just hadn’t wanted to after the meeting in the Prefect’s carriage.

All he could think about was Black sitting there, next to Longbottom.  With her new, short hair she looked painfully sharp and severe in her black prudish robes.

Nothing at all like the tortured soul he’d seen in the hospital.

Or the fiery, impassioned girl that was determined to save her brother.

As soon as the meeting was finished she’d disappeared with Longbottom and Pansy to the back of the train.  The last carriage had been claimed by Potter and Pals back during the first year.

He’d always been able to find them there.  He’d always stopped by - every train ride.  At first to taunt Potter about refusing his friendship.  Later to interrupt and annoy them.  The last two visits had been to wish Pansy a lovely holiday.

He had no reason to visit now.

He couldn’t, in good conscience go try and torment Black and Potter.  Not after all that had occurred.  He had no reason to seek out Pansy, he’d see her at dinner.  Last year he could get away with it, but this year…

He didn’t want to think of the possible consequences of that.  Life was getting too complicated.

Tracy giggled at something Daphne said.

Blaise did an impression and Theo snickered.

Vince burped and popped another handful of sweets in his mouth.

Greg quickly followed suit.

Draco ground his teeth and stood up.

"Draco, is something wrong?" Daphne asked, concern in her voice.

"Nothing, just need the loo," he said as politely as he could manage.  

"Have fun!" Theo called out.

"But not too much fun!" Blaise said as the two boys cackled like hyenas.

Draco rolled his eyes and left.  Honestly, it was as if everyone had lost their minds over the summer.  At least he'd been productive.  Even if his irrational animosity towards red-heads was now tripled. 

Professor Roux was a bloody menace.

He was so busy scowling at memories of all his painful training sessions that he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings.

One moment he was reaching out for the door to the loo, the next his arms were full.

He froze.

He looked down at the top of a head covered in short, black frizzy hair.

She tried to step backwards, out of his arms, but her feet hit the small raised lip between the corridor and the bathroom.

She started to fall, he reached out to grab her. 

He failed.

They landed in a pile of bony arms and legs on the floor of the bathroom.

He gulped and looked down to see a pair of soft, brown eyes looking up at him.

“I, uh, apologize,” he muttered.  He felt his face heat up as he realized that there was something decidedly soft pressing against his chest.

“Um, my balance, it’s not what it was,” she whispered as her eyes grew wide with…something.

They continued to stare at each other until Draco realized that part of him was beginning to move.

He jerked backwards and ended up banging his head on the door frame as his face went up in flames.

“Bloody hell!” he hissed, grabbing his head.

That woke her up.

“Malfoy?  Are you alright?” Her voice was full of concern as she moved across the small floor to reach out to touch his head.

He looked at her eyes and saw concern, and bile rose up in his throat.  He’d failed her.  True, he’d saved her, but that didn’t wash away his past failure.

He looked away, his eyes catching on her pale calf, poking out of her black school robes.

He gasped.

Words.

There were words carved into her skin.

She jerked back at his gasp, thinking she’d done something to injure him, but it only took a moment for her to realize he was staring at something.

She followed his gaze and froze. 

They were as still as two statues.

He took in the words revealed there.

Mudblood.

Filth.

Scum.

He wanted to vomit.

He knew now why she always wore such prudish robes.

His aunt must have carved those words into her flesh.

How could she even stand to be in the same family as her?  With the woman that had murdered her parents and carved up her flesh?

How could she show him, Bellatrix’s nephew, any concern?

A sound from further down the corridor drove the questions from his mind as she scrambled away from him, covering her scars.

“Hermione…” he croaked.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been planning to say, but he knew he had to say something.

She didn’t respond, he watched from the floor as she tried to get to her feet, but her movements were rough and uncoordinated.  She tripped on her robes and fell on top of him.

He tried to help her get off of him, but she resisted.

“Let me go!” she hissed.

“I’m try-” he was cut off, as for the second time in his lifetime, her knee connected with his family jewels.

He groaned and clutched his aching parts as she untangled herself and struggled to her feet before hurrying out of the loo.

Once she was gone and he could move again he pulled himself to his knees and slid the door shut, locking it, before slumping back to the floor.

Unbidden, the image of her pale calf carved up like her stomach had been, came to his mind.

His breathing increased and he tried to force it back.  But it wouldn’t go.

He saw his aunt, a women he’d only seen in old photographs, carving up a young Hermione Black.

Bile rose in his throat once more and he began to shake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. He now knows about the scars. 
> 
> I'm still working on Ch. 23. If I get it finished before I fly to the States I'll go ahead and just post it a couple days early. If not, ya'll will have to wait until the 21st (at the earliest) for the next update.
> 
> Oh, and if you know Galaxy Quest - Yes, that little opening exchange between Alianore and Sirius was an homage to Alan Rickman. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	23. The Quiet Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco react to what occurred previously. The Order continues to plan things. An upset occurs in Gryffindor Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to my FF reader, JuliSt. It was as I was messaging her about characters and how they've changed that I finally got something worked out in my head and finished this chapter.  
> Because my head is really not functioning well right now. For family reasons.
> 
> Also, that's partly why I'm posting now. The idea of getting off the plane in Detroit and seeing responses about my beloved entry in the Harry Potter world is a bright spot in a rather not happy time.

Hermione raced through the train, her blood pounding in her ears, her eyes seeing nothing.

Her scars.

He’d seen her scars.

Her friends knew she had them, but only Harry had ever seen them.

Why hadn’t she worn long socks?  That’s what she usually did. 

But today…today it had been so warm, and it was still hard to bend over…

She was a bloody idiot!!!

She slid open the last door on the train and found herself with nowhere left to go.  Just a small, metal platform with thin, spindly bars around it.  Her hands were shaking as she walked out and slid the door shut behind her.

While it was warm, the air carried a sharpness that hinted at the cold to come.  She gripped the thin bars, feeling the sharp metal press into her skin and took a deep breath.

Draco Malfoy had seen her scars.  His pale face had been pinched with horror and disgust.  And she didn’t blame him.  Who could blame anyone for thinking that?

She was disgusting.  Her body, her skin, and - to some - even her blood, were parts to be reviled. 

Hermione Granger Black gave her head a shake and took a deep breath, letting her eyes rest on the tracks appearing out from underneath the back of the train.

She felt Harry reach out through their link, checking on her.  She let him know she was alright, that she needed to be alone, then she shut it down.

Sometimes she just wanted to be alone, ruminating on the hand life had dealt her.

She was being foolish.  She knew that.

But she also knew she had to accept the truth.  Her body was garbage.  But her mind and her magic…

She gave a fierce grin and let out a bark of laughter.  She could control those parts of her.  No one could take away her magic or stop her from using her mind.

No one.

XXX

"That's enough," Remus said softly.

The old man sighed as the room grew instantly quiet.  He looked at the room over his half-moon spectacles.  

Somehow, his own Order meeting had been derailed.  He'd wanted to talk about recruitment first, but Sirius had exploded. The room was still echoing from his heavily weighted question:

"How, in Merlin's name, did we miss a bloody horcrux?!?  I thought you said we got them all!"

The room had fallen into silence broken after a few minutes by Alastor commenting, "Of course the maniac has horcruxes."

After that, the questions had been endless, until now.  Until Remus' soft, but commanding voice had broken through.

"A horcrux is essentially an anchor created through murder, tying Voldemort to this world.  We thought we had destroyed them all, but we obviously missed one," the werewolf continued once he was certain he had everyone’s attention.

"Obviously," Sirius put in, complete with an eye roll.

Alice smacked him, "Behave."

Sirius shot his business partner and friend a scowl as he rubbed the back of his head.

"I was mistaken.  He must have made the sixth one.  There was no evidence for it, but it is the only possibility.  I shall return to my research, but, until then, we need to focus on regaining control of the situation," Albus said, trying to get the meeting back on track.

"Like that's likely," Tonks snorted, "the Minister has his head so far up his-"

"Nymphadora Tonks!  Nice girls don't say things like that!" Molly interjected.

Remus and Sirius snorted in laughter as Tonks turned her attention to the woman that had given birth to her best friend.

"Mrs. Weasley, have I EVER given you the idea I was a nice girl?"

Molly opened her mouth to reply, but Bill cut her off, "Mum, there's no point.  Besides, what Tonks was saying is true.  The minister's nose has turned quite brown."

Laughter filled the room at that.  Tonks tried to aim a kick at Bill, but was stopped by Remus touching her knee with his hand.

The girl turned a shade of pink to match her hair.  And it only got worse when Remus suddenly realized just where and who he was touching.

Albus watched a very dangerous smirk appear on Sirius' face.

Children.

He was surrounded by children.

And wasn't that lovely?

He smiled and felt his eyes begin to twinkle.

"Now," he began, drawing everyone's attention, "we can do nothing about Fudge and the Ministry at the moment.  We can, however, begin work on foiling Voldemort's plans and recruiting more members."  He looked at Alice and Sirius, "Your academy here was a splendid idea.  Sirius, try and find new, trustworthy members while Alice is at Hogwarts this year.  Alastor," the retired auror focused both of his eyes on his old friend, "I trust you've set up a schedule?"

Alastor nodded.

"Could you go over it?  Then we teachers need to hurry back to Hogwarts before the train gets in."

The retired auror pulled himself to his feet.  As he began to go over schedules for training and guarding the prophecy, Albus watched his Order.

All of them, so young.  So passionate.  So ready to defend their loved ones.

He hoped that none of them had to die, though he knew that was a foolish hope.

No one could escape death.

Not even Tom Riddle.

XXX

Draco didn't know how long he was in the loo.  People kept knocking, telling him to hurry, but he ignored them all.

How could Hermione Black stand to call Sirius Black her father?  How could she be on such good terms with his mother and Aunt Andormeda?  How could she speak with him?  Show concern?  Trust him?  Swear a vow with him?

She...

She was amazing.

That was the only conclusion he could reach. 

How could his mother even think they could marry?  She couldn't marry the nephew of the woman that did that to her.  The son of a woman that looked so much like her evil sister.

Just to be able to interact regularly with those related to Bellatrix Lestrange... 

And not just interact.  He knew she loved her adopted father.  He still remembered her growing so upset back during their argument in fourth year.

And fourth year...

He now knew why she'd been so furious at him calling her a mu-.

He gave his head a shake.  No, couldn't think that word, just in case.

He would not break their oath.  He wasn't a liar.

When he had called her the not nice term for a muggleborn, she'd been furious.  No, not just furious.  Looking back, he could now recognize the pain in her eyes.

He'd called her one of the words his aunt had carved into his flesh.

He felt sick again, but there was nothing else to come up.

If that was what Death Eaters did - carve up little girls - he wanted nothing to do with it.

He wasn't his aunt.

And, with a feeling of failure, he acknowledged that he wasn’t his father either.

He didn't know who he was, but at least he knew who he wasn't.

Maybe that was all he could know.

Another knock sounded on the door, this one softer.

"Draco?"

Pansy.

"Theo came and got me.  We're almost at Hogsmeade Station."

He didn't say anything, he didn't think his throat would work. 

He felt so dirty.

"I know something happened.  I saw Hermione, she finally came back not twenty minutes ago.  Now it's your turn, you need to come out."

He pulled himself to his feet.  They almost buckled after hours on the floor.

"Draco?"

Tears sprang to his eyes.  Pansy.  His most loyal friend, he'd been a fool to ever believe she would betray him.

A fool.

He took a deep breath and wiped his face, trying to regain control.

"Please, Draco.  I know we've grown apart recently, but I'm still your friend."

His breath caught in his throat.

"Draco..." There was a hint of warning in her voice.

He reached for the latch, but couldn't quite manage to turn it.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy get your pointy self out here right now!  I have no problem with blasting off this door!"

He couldn't help it, a half-broken laugh tumbled out of his throat.

There was the Pansy he knew and loved.  This was the Pansy he’d shared every little secret with since he was seven years old and found her crying at her own birthday party; upset that Barrow had called her a pasty pug and told her that she should have been drowned at birth.

"Draco!  I hear you laughing at me!  Get out here!  Right now!"

His laugh continued, turning into a quiet snicker as he managed to get the door open.

As soon as she saw him her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

His snickering abruptly stopped and he flushed in shame.  He must look a mess.

"Oh, Draco..."

And then, for the first time since that article came out, she hugged him.

"Pansy..." He croaked.

"Oh, shut it.  I know you're sorry.  We were stupid back then. Now," she pushed him back into the loo, "let's get you cleaned up.  Can't have the Malfoy Prince looking messier than Harry.  It just wouldn't be right."

He chuckled and sat on the closed toilet; letting her pull combs and such out of a drawstring pouch that looked much too small to contain so many beauty products.  It was almost as if the entire Skeeter incident had never occurred.  He felt his shoulders lower as tension left him.

She began fussing over his appearance and his mind filled with thoughts of another witch.

He hoped someone was fussing over her.

She deserved it.

XXX

Harry watched Hermione disappear up to the girls' dorm.  He'd thought she'd been doing so well since the graveyard. She'd had only one nightmare, and as soon as he got there she had calmed down.

And then Malfoy had to go muck things up again.

He'd been right not to tell Hermione who had brewed the cure and administered it.  If she reacted this badly to Malfoy seeing her old scars, how would she fee to learn he had seen her at her weakest point yet?  After refusing to come help her?

No.

It was better she not know.

"Hey, mate, you ready for bed?"

Harry gave himself a shake and smiled up at his best friend.  "Sure," he glanced around the common room, "Nev go up already?"

"Where were you?  He said he was going up almost five minutes ago.  Had to help a first year figure out the shower controls."

Harry shrugged and stood up, "Somewhere."

As the two of them climbed the stairs up a disturbance began to grow ahead of them.  

Harry frowned when he saw a crowd of boys outside of their room.  A room from where several people were yelling.

"THAT'S MY BED!"

"No, you great IDIOT!  That's Harry's bed!"

"I've always had the bed by the window!!!"

"Yeah!  Before you got SUSPENDED!!!!"

The little first year boys peeking through the crowd at the door gasped at that.  Harry couldn't blame them.  It wasn't every day that someone got suspended from Hogwarts.

But, that did answer just who was trying to steal his bed.

He tapped a fifth year boy on the shoulder and cleared his throat.  The boy turned with a glare, but as soon as he saw it was Harry he leapt out of the way.

The rest of the Gryffindors quickly did the same.  Quite a few of them, especially a couple seventh years, looked quite gleeful at the possibilities that might occur.

"Why-!  You little shirt-"

BOOM!!! 

He jumped and yanked out his wand, pushing a younger boy out of the way so he could reach the dorm room.

The room was filled with smoke, but even through it Harry could see that it was a disaster.  Soot coated everything, including the three boys that were standing there, wands drawn.

Harry's trunk had been slid across the floor and was lying on its side.  Quite far away from his normal bed.  Luckily the lock Padfoot had put on it hadn't broken open.

Dean's trunk hadn't faired so well.  It was up on one end and had vomited clothes and books across the floor.

Granted, it looked like Mclaggen's trunk had been attacked by a dragon. 

Seamus had his wand out and was studying the burnt trunk quite proudly.  Dean was next to him, a furious expression on his face as he shouted, "Don't you point your wand at him!!"

And, indeed, Mclaggen had his wand out and aimed at Seamus.

How in the world had they not heard this from the common room?

Ron looked at the rather overwhelmed seventh-year prefect standing just inside the door.

"Criston, you're really dumping Mclaggen on us?"

He shrugged weakly, "He is a sixth year still..."

"What is going on?"

Harry looked back to see Neville pushing his way into the room, flashing his prefect badge at anyone that wouldn't move.

"Mclaggen tried to take Harry's bed!"  Dean shouted.

"It's MY bed!" Mclaggen shouted back.

"He also tried to call Dean a shirt-lifter!"  Seamus roared at the same time.

Dean looked over at his best mate, "Well, it is kind of true..."

Neville looked over at Criston, "You're not going to handle this?"

The older boy made a very non-committal half-shrug, causing Neville to roll his eyes.

"Alright, guess it's me.  Criston, at least go be useful and go get Professor McGonagall."

The older, lanky boy rushed off as Neville first directed his attention to the audience.

"Phelps, you there?"

"I'm in the back.  Want me to send them all off to bed?"

"Thank Merlin, you have some sense.  Yes, please.  Everyone, go to bed.  First-years, see Phelps if you need any more help."

There were quite a few grumbles and groans as the fifth-year prefect ushered them all off the landing and up or down to their dorm rooms.  Neville watched long enough to be sure they were all leaving before focusing back on his three angry roommates. 

"Mclaggen, where was your trunk when you came in?"

Mclaggen pointed at the end of Harry's bed, "Right there!  Just as it always was in my old room!"

"Liar!" Seamus shouted!  "He blasted it out of the way and hit Dean's trunk!"

Neville looked at Seamus, "Did you see that?"

"Yes!"  Seamus shouted.

"Liar!" Mclaggen yelled.

"You know," Harry interjected, "there's an easy way to check this."

All four of them looked at him.  Only Neville looked remotely calm.

"How?" Ron asked from his post by the door.

"We'll just ask the house elves when Professor Mcgonagall gets here."

Mclaggen's jaw dropped at hearing this idea.  Seamus smirked, while Neville nodded in agreement at this plan.

It was only Dean that spoke, "What's a house elf?"

"A house elf, Mr. Thomas is a magical being that takes great pride in work.  Think of the muggle fairy tale 'The Elves and the Shoemaker," Professor Mcgonagall said from the doorway.

She was in a tartan houserobe and her hair was braided and slung over one shoulder.  Criston was hovering behind her, looking very uncomfortable.

She surveyed the room before stating quite firmly, "Wands away."

Harry watched as Seamus and Dean reluctantly put their wands away.  Interestingly, Mclaggen didn't even hesitate.  His wand was away and he was practically standing at attentionr before the words had fully left her mouth.

It was then that Harry remembered just where Mclaggen had spent the last year.  He'd been firmly under the thumb of Padfoot and Mrs. Longbottom at the Ministry.

And from the little bit he remembered hearing, the older boy had become a much better person during it all.  So why had he attacked Harry's trunk?  Unless it had all been an act.   He didn't like choosing sides, but he'd always trust Dean and Seamus over Cormac Mclaggen.

"Floppy!" Professor Mcgonagall stated quite firmly once no wands were in view.

A small being with enormous ears popped into the room. "Mistress be wanting Floppy?" he squeaked.

"Yes, I was wondering if you could find the elf who originally brought the trunks to this room and then help them restore the room to exactly as it was before the students found it.  They seem to have made a mess."

Floppy's eyes grew almost as big as his ears as he took in the dorm room.  "Yes, Mistress.  They be messy boys.  We will fix it."

He immediately popped out.  A moment later he returned with another house elf.  It took the pair of them less than five minutes to restore the room.  Harry noticed that Mclaggen's trunk - at the end of a bed that had certainly never been Harry's - still looked a bit singed around the edges. 

"Now," Mcgonagall said when the house elves left, "find your trunk, that's your bed.  It is entirely too late, so I shall speak with you three," she pointed at Mclaggen, Dean, and Seamus, "before breakfast.  Be in my office at seven.  And, Mr. Longbottom," she focused her piercing gaze on him, "good work on taking control of the situation."

Neville gave a small, pleased smile as he turned a bit pink, "It’s my duty."

"Quite right.  Now, go to bed boys.  Sixth year may not have big exams at the end, but it will be no walk in the park."

She swept out of the room, giving Criston a pointed glare that sent him scurrying up the stairs to his room.  When the landing was clear Ron swung the door shut, then lazily leaned against it.  He crossed his arms and focused his eyes on the older boy.

“You know, Mclaggen,” he drawled, “it wasn’t really smart to alienate your roommates of the next two years.  Getting in an argument about a bed is one thing, but blasting a trunk?  Or using slurs?  Don’t you remember what got you in trouble in the first place?”

Mclaggen stared mulishly at the floor, but said nothing.

“Ron…”  Harry started before he was interrupted by Neville.

“No, Harry, this needs to be said.  Now, so there are no more incidents.”  He walked across the room until he was standing directly in front of Mclaggen.  The older boy refused to look up, but Neville waited him out.  The silence in the room grew thick as Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Harry all watched Neville essentially stare down Cormac Mclaggen.  Harry could distantly hear the boys in the other parts of Gryffindor Tower getting ready.

After what seemed like hours, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Mclaggen looked up.  He had to tilt his head back a fraction of an inch so he could meet Neville’s eyes.

“What?” he bit out.

“You need to understand that we aren’t your old classmates.  We’re not going to let you bully us around.  None of us will stand for it.  And if I catch you pulling any of your old stunts I’ll have you in the Headmaster’s office faster than you can say golden apple.  Got it?”

You could practically hear Mclaggen’s teeth grinding as he glared daggers at the other boy. 

“Fine.”

He whirled on his feet and stomped over to his trunk to get his night things.  When he disappeared into the bathroom Harry glanced around the room at his friends.

“This is going to be a lovely year, isn’t it?”  Neville stated as soon as the bathroom door slammed shut.

“Oh, yeah, just peachy.  How long do you think it will take for one of the girls to hex him?”  Ron asked.

 “Hey, Seamus, I bet you a butterbeer that Hermione hexes him by lunch,” Dean said.

“You’re on!  I don’t think he’ll make it through breakfast!” Seamus said as he put his arm around Dean’s shoulders and steered him towards their part of the dorm room.

Harry snorted in laughter and began getting ready for bed.  Personally, he thought they were both wrong.  Hermione wasn’t one for hexing people in the hallways.  If he didn’t think he’d be taking his life in his hands making such a bet, he’d place his money on Ginny.  Especially once she heard what had occurred this evening.  While she had no problem blasting his things or yelling at him, she took offense when anyone besides Hermione did it.

His girlfriend was a bit possessive.  Not that he minded.  He rather liked how focused she was on him.  Especially when he got her somewhere dark and private.

As he climbed into bed he tentatively reached out to Hermione.  He sighed at what he found. 

She was still blocking him.

She’d been doing that off and on all summer.  At first he thought it was because she was trying to master the bond, but now he had the feeling that his sister was distancing herself from him.  He thought it might be because she knew how easily the bond had overwhelmed her, but, deep inside, he wondered if she just didn’t want to be so intimately connected to someone who had come so close to death.  He knew that was unfair to think, but he couldn’t help himself.  He’d been the one that found Padfoot passed out in his office, firewhiskey on his breath, and tears on his face after it had come out that Regulus Black had died a hero. 

Losing a loved one changed people.  So it only stood to reason that almost losing one did the same thing.

He’d almost lost Hermione, until he’d received help from one of the last people he’d expected it from.  And she’d almost lost him, until one of the people he loved most had swooped from the air, like a flaming angel, and saved him.

Saved him, after his parents had spoken to him.

After they’d told him how much they loved him, how proud they were of him.

He felt a sob well up in his throat and he quickly pulled his wand out from under his pillow and cast a silencing spell on his bed before he let it come out.  It was torn from him in a ragged breathe as the tears began to pour down his face.

He cried for his parents, who had died when they weren’t much older than he was now.  He cried for Padfoot, the only father he’d ever known.  The man who had lost almost everyone he ever loved.  He also cried for Neville, who had also lost a parent, but had become someone that looked beyond house colors.  Someone that knew the new lion in their den was more threatening than any of the snakes down in the basement.  He cried for his sister, a girl who had lost her birth parents the same night he lost his.  A girl that, unlike him, actively remembered losing them.  And, most surprising of all, he cried for a little green snake that was too afraid to fly, but had no problem risking it all to save a lioness that had caused him nothing but headaches for years. 

A snake that had sent him back his cloak, along with a note telling him to never, ever, tell anyone what he had done.

All of this came out of him while he stood outside of Hermione’s mental gates, willing her to let him in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this from my phone. So hope it does alright.  
> How many of you remembered Mclaggen might be coming back? And he's apparently back up to his old tricks. Or at least, attempting to be. Don't think he counted on Neville having a spine, unlike Criston. And Floppy made a reappearance, if anyone remembers him.
> 
> I have no clue if I'll get an update up in the next week, or two weeks. Things are not looking very good with my grandmother. It moved much faster than they first thought it would. About a week ago they gave her 30-60 days, but it's going even faster. So...I don't know. I'll likely post on my tumblr of the same name while I'm gone.


	24. Paper Hats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry attempts to help Hermione. The Daily Prophet is once again up to no good. And the return of another character.

"Harry James Potter, if you offer to go hex Malfoy one more time I will turn your Firebolt into a pile of kindling," she bit out through gritted teeth.

Honestly.

Her brother held his hands up in surrender as Ron and Neville snickered.  

“Woah, ‘Mione!  I was just trying to help…”

She shot a glare at him and then quite pointedly focused on the text in front of her.  They had free periods to study, not to gossip about Slytherin boys that were obviously up to something out of character.

They had been at school for over a month now and things were not going as Hermione had imagined they would. She'd been sure that Malfoy would go back on their oath, or at least threaten to.  He'd tell the school about her scars, or he'd hold them over her head.

And, telling the world would, as surely as a curse, hurt her.

But he'd done nothing.

He'd done less than nothing.  He was doing any and everything he could to ensure they never encountered each other.  He'd even turned around and walked in the opposite direction so as to not cross paths with her.

It made her feel disgusting.

The fact that he couldn’t even pretend to treat her like he used to…

It hurt, it really did.

And the worst part was that she couldn’t even explain WHY it upset her so much.

She hadn’t told anyone that Malfoy had seen her scars – not even Harry.  All he knew was that she got terribly upset every time she saw Malfoy.  To the point where she was beginning to struggle in Potions.  Snape had even asked her after class the week before if everything was alright.

“Hey, ‘Mione…”

She raised her head just enough to glare at her brother, “What?”

“If I can’t hex Malfoy, could you at least tell me WHY I can’t hex him?”

She pursed her lips, “No.  Now, can we change the subject?”

She shifted in her seat and picked up her quill.  If she didn't get this essay done and done well Snape might just write a letter home to Padfoot.  She still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact he'd asked how she was.

"What about hexing Mclaggen?" Ron asked as she put quill to parchment.

She froze and glared up at her freckle-faced friend.  Her hand turned white as she squeezed the poor, innocent quill.

"What," she bit out, "do you think?"

"I think you really don't care either way?" he said hopefully.

"Neville."

"Yes?" Her fellow prefect asked innocently.

"Can you please explain to these two knuckleheads just WHY we can't hex our fellow classmates?"

"Hermione, Mclaggen isn't a fellow classmate, he's an invader.  I don't know why our parents approved him to return to Hogwarts," Harry protested.

She rolled her eyes, "Has he broken any school rules?  Done anything illegal?  Put any of us in danger?"

"Well..." 

"I think..."

"No, he hasn't," Neville stated.

"But, Nev, what about-"

"Ron, that's over.  Dean and Seamus let that situation escalate and all three of them have served their detentions.  All he does now is send Harry and I dirty looks."

"I heard him complaining to Criston about sharing a room with a pair of shirt-lifters!  You know he was talking about Dean and Seamus!"

She had been trying to focus on the potions text in front of her, but at these words Hermione found her attention drawn back to the boys.

"He said WHAT?"

Ron looked at her earnestly, "He called them a pair of shirt-lifters and implied some other things."

"And Criston said nothing?" She knew he was a worthless prefect, but to not report a slur...

"Of course he said nothing.  He's a worthless prefect," Neville stated - echoing her thoughts.  "He only got the badge because the rest of his class is even worse."

She grew quiet as Harry nodded in agreement.  The current Gryffindor seventh-years were rather lacking.  Well, at least on the boys' side.  The girls' were much better than her own roommates.  If only she'd been born a month earlier she could have roomed with Katie Bell rather than Lavender Brown.

Katie didn't have a penchant for giggling.

"Well," she started, "I will certainly keep an eye on him, but as long as he toes the line there will be no hexing.  We don't need more enemies than we already have."

Ron grumbled about that, but the other two boys said nothing as they all returned to their studying.

XXX

Draco felt Pansy tense up next to him as soon as she unfolded her copy of the Daily Prophet.  Personally, he didn't care to read the rubbish that they had taken to publishing lately.  Not that they hadn't been publishing rubbish for years - but it had at least usually been entertaining. Now it was just downright embarrassingly awful.

He put down his cup of tea and turned to read over Pansy's shoulder.

He rolled his eyes.  

Did they not hire fact checkers at the Daily Prophet?

"You know, I've never even met a muggle, but I'm fairly certain that their teaching methods are as good as, if not better than ours."

Pansy shot him a look, one delicate eyebrow going up, "Why would you say that?"

He shrugged, "I got bored once when mother took me to visit her sister.  My uncle," his nose wrinkled a bit at the word, "keeps one of those muggle automobiles around - since he still has connections to the muggle world - and I took a look at it.  There are so many knobs and dials that you must need a great education to understand them.  Not to mention that thing they call an 'engine' that makes it run.  I've never seen anything so incomprehensible. And I was told that in some places muggles as young as fifteen can use them competently.  And-" he remembered to add as he knew they had an audience by now, "-muggles are certainly no smarter than us.  Ergo, they have good teaching methods."

"Draco, your brain works in mysterious ways," Daphne Greengrass stated from her spot across the table.

"I didn't realize you had an uncle with muggle connections," Theo said with surprise.

Tracy smacked his shoulder, "Theodore Knott!  Do you not listen to me?  Narcissa Malfoy's oldest sister married a muggleborn. Andromeda Tonks née Black was burned off the family tree for that.  But the two sisters mended bridges several years ago."

Theo's angular face twisted in disbelief, "Really?  I don't remember hearing that."

Draco snickered when Theo threw him a wink and Tracy promptly began scolding him for not ever paying attention to her.  Daphne gazed on her two friends with mild amusement as Draco looked back down at Pansy.

She had an extremely calculating look on her face.

He suddenly felt worried for the staff at the Daily Prophet.  No one got away with attacking her family.  

That thought made him look up and over the head of Daphne.  His gaze searched until it found a familiar head of black hair.  She was facing away from him, but he could clearly see the newspaper in her shaking hands. 

And, for the first time in weeks, when he thought her name he didn’t see her helpless in the hospital.  No, he saw her angrily defending her family when he dared to insult them.

His breath caught in his throat and he was seconds away from standing up and…and…

He froze.

And what?

What could he do?

“Draco?”

He blinked and turned to look back down at Pansy, “Yes?”

“Would you mind helping me?  I believe I have a few letters to write.”

He blinked again, and it suddenly hit him that he could do something.

“I believe we have an empty class right now.  Would you like assistance now?”

She rolled her eyes at his polite speech, but stood up anyway.  As soon as he was on his own feet she grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him out of the Great Hall.

Before he crossed the threshold he thought he saw a small sliver of smoke curling up out of the newspaper in Hermione’s hands.

XXX

Hermione's hands were shaking in anger by the time she put the paper down.  How dare they!  

It wasn't enough for them to attack Harry's sanity or her and Ginny's competence.  No, now they were attacking their parents!

Saying that those who can't do, teach.

Ergo, Mrs. Longbottom, Dora, and Padfoot were only teaching now because they could no longer handle being aurors!  

They'd even dug up the werewolf registry and publically outed Uncle Remus!!!

And what they were saying and implying about Mr. Weasley!

Anger burned within her, fueled by her magic.  How DARE they attack what was hers?!?  

She was seconds away from igniting the entire paper on fire wandlessly when Luna walked over and snatched it from her hands.  

Hermione twisted on the bench to glare at her blonde friend.  Instantly a soft feeling of warmth rolled off of Luna, calming her anger.  Cooling it, making it truly dangerous.

Luna's usually soft, doe-like eyes became as hard as crystal while she read the article.  When she reached the end she folded the paper neatly into a hat and then placed it on her head.

Hermione could only assume that the Ravenclaw had known that folding it in such a manner would make the headline say: Ministry a Scam!  Rather than: Ministry Reveals Marauder's Academy a Scam!

Ginny snickered, "Well done, Luna!"

Luna smiled sweetly, though her eyes were still as hard as diamond.  She leaned over and kissed Ron on the cheek before looking over at Hermione.

"I think you write beautifully.  And there are so many delightful facts out there."

A slow smile slipped across Hermione's face as she understood just what Luna wanted.  

They wanted to print lies?  Well she'd drown them in truth.

XXX

It took about a week of research to obtain all of the information she needed.  She sent a few owls to Mr. Frank and he'd happily found the muggle research papers she requested.  The Hogwarts library had held the rest of the information she had required.

Now, sitting in front of her were about two dozen clearly written and well-researched articles on the Marauder’s Academy.  She knew the Daily Prophet would never agree to publish it, but they weren't the only publication in the world.  Each copy of the article had been tailored for a different publication.  

She hadn't wanted to, but she'd asked Padfoot to send her the family seal.  The Black family may have died down to only two carrying the name, but their name was almost legend throughout the wizarding world.

The seal would get her letter opened.  

Her introduction letter would get her article read.

The information contained within the article would get it published.

She was even given permission for the articles to be translated into any language as needed. 

For years she'd been making a list of things she wanted to deal with.  Well, apparently the future was here and it was time to get started on that list.

XXX

Rita had not been having a very good few years.  She’d always told herself that everything was forgivable if it was done in pursuit of a story.  Unfortunately, the government didn’t agree with her. 

It hadn’t helped that she’d - somewhat - inadvertently attacked the Blacks.  That family wasn’t known for being forgiving, or accepting of attacks gracefully.

She was realistic enough to admit that she’d overestimated her own abilities.   

The only positive thing – in her mind – was that they had decided to punish her legally rather than personally. 

It meant she was alive.

It also meant that she was in the very small low-security ward at Azkaban.  Dementors stayed away from there during the daytime; only roaming the corridors at night.  She also had access to a small library - one that always carried a wide variety of newspapers.

Granted, the newspapers were almost always quite old by the time they received them.  They received every newspaper for almost an entire month all at once.

Why, just an hour before she’d read a Daily Prophet article from almost three weeks ago, on the tenth of October, that had made her snicker in anticipation.  Her replacement at the Daily Prophet – an upstart little witch if there ever was one – had sought to succeed where Rita had failed.

She’d attacked the Blacks.

Since finishing that delightfully terrible article she’d been scanning newer papers.  She passed over countless articles destroying Harry Potter, attacking Albus Dumbledore, and declaring it to be impossible that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned.

There had been nothing in the Daily Prophet.  Though she had found it interesting that no reporter wrote more than one negative article about anyone related to the Blacks before disappearing from the paper entirely.  Including that little upstart witch.

She’d had to turn to a stack of Canadian papers.  The Circadian Leaf wasn’t what she had ever considered an interesting paper.  They were much too nice about things, not to mention they had a terrible fondness for fact-checking.  Something she never allowed to get in the way of a good story.

Likely why they always refused to carry any of her work.

She didn’t even have to open the paper to read the article.  It, along with a massive moving photograph of the teaching staff dominated the entire front page.  Down at the bottom she could see that it continued on page A3. 

“All right everyone!  Pack it up!  Supper then bed!  Dementors will be here in an hour!”

The harsh voice of Auror Silvan cut through her thoughts.  She hurriedly stuck the paper inside of her prison robes and joined the handful of other low-security prisoners on their way to the small cafeteria.

Less than an hour later her stomach was filled with watery stew and she was locked inside of her small cell. 

A sharp, narrow beam of light poked through the bars on the door and she held the paper up to it.  She slowly read every word.  By the time she finished the first page a grin was twisting her face and it was all she could do to contain her excitement as she flipped to page A3. 

That girl could write!  If she could do something so deliciously wicked as this article, while passing the Circadian Leaf’s fact-checkers…

She didn’t feel so bad now about underestimating the brat and her potential bridegroom.  Who knew a Gryffindor could think so deviously?

By the end of the second page her grin had turned into a sharp wild laugh.  One that hid from her ears the sounds of stones crumbling, people screaming, and doors being blown off their hinges.

That is, until that narrow beam of light became much larger as her own door exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much everyone for your kind words after the last chapter. I did get to say goodbye to her, but she passed away twelve hours into my visit. So much of my time in the US was spent helping my grandfather. I will say I'm now ready to actually live on the same side of the planet as the rest of my family once again.
> 
> And part of this chapter was written on the airplane. A bit more on the train, but I finished it up at home. No direct Draco and Hermione interaction here, but there will be, soon.


	25. The Breakout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa Malfoy and Rita Skeeter do what they must to further their own ends.

As soon as the manor was empty Narcissa was grabbing a handful of floo powder and stepping into the fire.  
Seconds later she stepped gracefully into the lobby of the Maurauder's Academy.  A young black-haired wizard looked up from some paperwork he was doing at the front desk.

"May I help you?"

She didn't recognize him, and he spoke with an accent - Japanese if she were to hazard a guess.

"Yes, you must be Ms. Roux's assistant.  I'm Narcissa Malfoy and I must see Mr. Black immediately."

The young man frowned, "He's in a meeting with the rest of the staff at the moment.  Would you care to-"

She cut him off, "Everyone is together?  Excellent."

She'd taken a mere two strides toward the corridor leading to Sirius' office when she walked smack into an invisible wall.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy, but I cannot let you go back there."

She pivoted gracefully and stared into the dark brown eyes of the boy.

"I'm sorry.  Did you say you can't LET me?"

He took a defensive stance and aimed his wand at her.

"I may look young, but I graduated from Mahoutokoro almost a decade ago.  I've got almost as many dueling medals as Alianore.  You may have heard of me.  Mamoru Tachiki.  So, yes, I won't let you."

Actually, she had heard of him.  

She had, of course, done a thorough background check when Lucius had expressed interest in hiring Alianore Roux to tutor Draco. 

"If you say so.  Now," she reached a hand up to her throat, "I'm afraid that I simply must intrude on Dumbledore's little army meeting."  She cast a wandless _Sonorus_ , a spell she had perfected during her reign as the Queen of Slytherin.  It only took a split second to determine what would get the fastest response without giving away any key information.

"ALIANORE ROUX!  IF YOU DON'T GET SIRIUS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW I SHALL BE FORCED TO MAKE YOUR BROTHER A WIDOWER!"

Tachiki blinked at her in surprise, so she sent him a sweet smile as she canceled the spell.  While Mahoutokoro and Beauxbatons were both lovely schools, neither of them contained a snake pit.

She wasn't surprised to find that it took less than a minute for Ms. Roux to drag a grouchy looking Sirius out to the lobby.  There was quite a crowd following them.  Including Albus Dumbledore and - she smiled - Xeno Lovegood.  Just the men she wanted to speak with.

"Mrs. Malfoy, here's your worthless cousin.  Now please don't harm my brother-in-law.  Zackarie is very protective of those he considers his."

"Alianore, you can't mean to tell me you think I would lose?"  His dark gaze looked Narcissa up and down, taking in her elegant robes, perfectly coiffed hair, and priceless jewelry.

To Narcissa's annoyance Sirius snickered at that.  "Mamoru, that's my cousin you're speaking to.  While she is no pushover with her wand, she only draws it as a last resort.  The rest of us poor sods are the ones used to do her dirty work.  Just look how she got Alinaore to drag me out here."

Alianore glared over at Sirius, either unaware or uncaring that she still held his wrist in her grip.  "Mamoru, remember how I spent the summer tutoring someone?  It was her son.  Trust me, she may not look like much, but I think she'd give you a run for your money on the dueling field."

Tachiki looked her over once more, but she ignored him and focused on Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, the information I'm about to divulge can't be used to stop it from happening.  I'm not a spy.  I'm just trying to do damage control.  If you act, I will be revealed as I was one of only a small handful that was at the meeting, but did not go directly on the mission.  And," her voice filled with steel, "if you reveal me you shall regret it."

She met the old wizard's piercing blue eyes and opened her mind as soon as she saw him nod in agreement.

When he moved into her mind, she pushed into his. 

He froze.

- _You listen to me old man.  I'm not on your side and I'm certainly not your tool.  Not like any of these people or Severus. I don't give a fig for your 'greater good'.  I'll do whatever is necessary to keep my family alive.  Understand?  And you know what my family is like when we're crossed._

- _I wondered.  You were always a true Slytherin._

- _And you are but a snake wearing a lion's skin._

- _Possibly.  Perhaps we sort too soon._

- _Perhaps._    _Now, listen.  He's breaking his followers out of Azkaban tonight.  You can't stop it.  And keep Sirius from storming after Pettigrew or Bellatrix, vengence can wait.  Get Lovegood to put together some articles.  I'll ensure they're published around the world.  These articles, combined with what Hermione Black got published two days ago..._

- _Don't worry, I see the merit._

- _Good._

Before that word had even had time to ring through the Headmaster's skull she pulled back out and shut her mental gate.  Then she filled the front of her mind with thoughts and images related to tea parties, galas, and shopping.

"I believe that will be all."  She looked over at her niece, standing next to the werewolf.  "Nymphadora, please tell your mother I must cancel our weekly tea.  Unfortunately, I'll no longer be able to make it."

The pink-haired ex-auror rolled her eyes at the name, but didn't protest.  "I can do that."

"Thank you.  And, Sirius, I still have the same plans and intentions.  But let’s put the wedding planning on hold until this mess is cleaned up."

He copied Nymphadora's gesture, "They're not going to get married."

She smirked, "Would you like to place a wager on that?"

That got him to laugh, "How about this:  You're right, and I'll pay for the honeymoon.  I'm right, and you fund and organize an orphanage or something similar for orphaned witches and wizards without magical family to take them in."

She stepped through the spot where the invisible wall had been and held out her hand to him.  

"Deal."

XXX

Rita was intelligent enough to go along willingly with the Death Eater in the black robe and terrifying mask.  She heard a few of the prisoners in neighboring cells refuse, and the green light that quickly followed.

She was no martyr.

Besides, the very people that had put her here were not supporters of You-Know-Who.  Well, there was Lucius Malfoy, but he was a realist.  Roy Parkinson had leanings, but she had never heard any rumor of him being a Death Eater.  

Being a reporter and keeping her secrets to herself had caused her to learn occlumency.  Enough that is, to lock up her fondness for her muggle grandparents.  As well as her distaste for all that blood purity nonsense.

While she stood with the other escapees in a large ballroom she carefully wrapped up all of her most revealing secrets and locked them up tight behind layers of pointless gossip and a healthy dose of anger at those that locked her up.  As well as an earnest desire to live, no matter what that required.

She knew people.

You-Know-Who wasn't detail-oriented or patient enough to sift through all of that nonsense to find it as long as she convinced him her anger was genuine.

As long as he believed her to be who she appeared to be.

"Ah, thank you Lucius for the kind use of your home," a cold, high-pitched voice said, cutting through the still air.

"It was an honor, my lord."

Her gaze found Lucius Malfoy and tagged any and all emotional cues to study later.

If she wanted to survive she had to know everything.

She listened carefully as He moved through the filthy mass of people.  She cataloged the names that earned praise and those that became new followers.  She even tagged the names and faces of two poor souls that did not pass his examination.

Green light burst through the hall as they were disposed of.

It was obvious there were only two options: the Mark or die.

Like that was much of a choice in her mind.

He came to her after praising the black-haired witch next to her for being one of his most loyal followers.  It was all Rita could do to not roll her eyes at the nonsense that made up their conversation.

And she had written nonsense for a living.

But even she knew Hermione Granger Black as a two-year-old had been strong enough to hold off Bellatrix Lestrange née Black.  At least for long enough for Sirius Black to arrive.

Rita released a slow breath and stood tall as He stepped in front of her.  She met his cold snake-like eyes with her own piercing ones.  Her eyes became mere windows as he forced himself into her mind.

She feigned ignorance of occlumancy as he roamed through her life.

He saw her drive for praise and acknowledgement.  Her parents that were too wrapped up in each other to even tell her she had done well.  Even when she became the first person to gain an O in History of Magic since Binns had died.

He saw that the love and fear the quill brought her from the public gave her a sense of self.

And, he of course saw her anger and frustration at being locked up.  How she knew she had overplayed her hand, and that she had learned her limits.

He blinked and the connection ended.

"I have a use for you."

She bowed her head in willing acceptance, "Yes, my lord."

"Narcissa," he hissed.

Narcissa Malfoy glided through the sea of people as if it was dance floor.  It drove Rita mad at how effortless the woman made everything look.  Even when they were both teenagers Narcissa had excelled at everything she touched.  Most of world had forgotten just how dangerous Narcissa could be, but Rita hadn't.  She still remembered how the older girl had looked as she had ‘convinced’ Kevan Nott that sexually harassing Sophia Greengrass was one of the worst things he could ever do.

Narcissa came to an elegant stop next to her sister.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Care for your sister and the reporter.  When that is done, see to the other writer.  The one with a fondness for obliviation.  I want them ready when I call on them."

“Yes, my lord.”

"My lord, please!  I can serve you now!"  Bellatrix Lestrange cried as the Dark Lord turned to move to the next group.

He stopped moving, but did not turn back to look at her, "Bellatrix, you are no use to me now.  Regain your strength.  Then we shall talk."

"Yes, master," she whispered almost tearfully.

Rita did her best to not look at either sister as she was lead up to a handsome guest room.

There Narcissa saw to her sister while Rita waited patiently against the wall.  All it had taken was one look from the mistress of the house for Rita to know that Dark Lord's acceptance or not, her life still hung by a thread..  

Rita found herself shifting from foot to foot as the two sisters spoke quietly on the bed.  She carefully logged every word the women said that she could make out.

"...a blood traitor!"

"...alone..."

"...faith in..."

"Please...."

"Toujours pur!"

The last phrase was spoken so loudly by Bellatrix Lestrange that Rita had no issue hearing it.  Narcissa quickly hushed her sister and gestured to the waiting Rita.

After that their words became so quiet that she couldn't make out any of it.  Bored, she pulled out the copy of Circadian Leaf she'd obtained in Azkaban and began rereading Hermione Black's article.

**_The Marauder’s Academy: Pedagogy Trumps Tradition_ **

**The title of this article may confuse most of you.  As wizards and witches we use many words that appear foreign to muggleborns/no-maj-borns upon first entering the magical world.  It only makes sense that the same would be true in reverse.  After all, what use do we magical folk have for airplanes, telephones, computers and the internet?**

**Yet, there are many words that we should share with muggles that we don't.  Pedagogy is one of these words.**

**Pedagogy is, essentially, the science of education.  Science is what muggles use in place of magic.  It is based on logic and the rules of it allow muggles to fly, live underwater, and converse from great distances without magic.  Pedagogy is based on years and years of logically performed studies charting the educational growth of countless students.  Educators then take that research and develop scientifically proven methods and strategies to impart knowledge upon new generations.**

**A teacher in the muggle world must study for an additional four years after finishing their basic education.  They study pedagogy by reading years of accumulated research papers, as well as going into classrooms and observing experienced instructors.**

Rita still found it hard to believe there was a science for teaching.  She wanted to find out if there was one for reporting.  Maybe, if she survived this, it would give her an edge.

**Compare that to most of our great magical schools.  All you must have to teach at one is a passing score on the appropriate NEWT exam.**

**The Marauder’s Academy, based in London, England uses pedagogy to plan lessons and ensure that all students gain the education they are paying for.  Mr. Arthur Weasley is in charge of administration and research, as he has spent years studying how the muggle and magical worlds differ.  Previously he was head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office in the British Ministry of Magic.  Last May he resigned from his position after the Minister of Magic declared that Mr. Weasley's daughter was a liar and addled.**

**Mr. Sirius Black, Mrs. Alice Longbottom, and Ms. Nymphadora Tonks resigned at the same time after their family members were also maligned unjustly.  For those not in Europe you must know that Mr. Black and Mrs. Longbottom were two of the most successful aurors in British history.  They are only topped by Clydog Gwent in the 1500s, Elaina Prewett in the 1700s, and the recently retired Alastor Moody.**

**The incident causing this mass resignation was the kidnapping of Mr. Black's godson, Harry Potter, by Bartimus Crouch Jr.  Mr. Potter was rescued by Ginerva Weasley and myself, Hermione Black. (See page A7 for the public accounting of this event)**

**During this rescue mission we witnessed the rebirth of mass murderer and terrorist Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort.**

**Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic for Wizarding Britain, refused to accept our memories or statements.  He declared that we, students only a year or so away from our majority, were not only untrustworthy, but possibly insane.  This, despite numerous aurors logging in their reports that all evidence pointed to more people than just Crouch involved in the kidnapping and attempted murder of Harry Potter.**

**Now, this same ministry, is trying to discredit (see page A4 for Marigold Watson's dissection of the ill-researched article in question) the private academy that the four abruptly unemployed wizards and witches - joined by ex-Hogwarts' defense professors Remus Lupin (a registered werewolf) and Alianore Roux (a world-class dueler) - opened.**

**The Marauder’s Academy uses-**

  


"Let's go."

Rita jerked with surprise to see Narcissa Malfoy standing before her with her wand out. Abruptly the smile Miss Black's words had created disappeared as she remembered she was not still safely in her low-security cell at Azkaban.

No, now she was back in the middle of the snake pit; once again under the thumb of Narcissa Malfoy.   And this time, Narcissa didn't seem too interested in protecting her. 

She really, really should have written the article Pansy Parkinson had wanted her to.

XXX

Narcissa led Rita Skeeter down corridor after corridor until she was in front of one of the few humble rooms in the manor.

She opened the door and gestured for the reporter to precede her.

He room was dark, but all it took was a flick of her wand to light the fire.  And then a simple swish and any conversation would be private.

"Rita Skeeter, you are either very brave or very stupid to show yourself in my home."

"Trust me, I'm not here by choice."

"Point."

Rita looked confused, "What?"

Narcissa smirked and moved closer.  She was very glad Andromeda had given her one of the point coins---.  It was going to come in very handy.

"Never mind."

The platinum haired witch looked very lost and confused.  Completely overwhelmed.

Narcissa didn't buy it for a minute.

She saw a bit of paper sticking out of Rita's robes and summoned it. "Ah, the Circadian Leaf.  A very well-respected paper.  I didn't peg you as a fan of theirs."

Rita scowled and glared at her old housemate.  Narcissa smirked and met her gaze.  As soon as eye contact was made, Narcissa pounced.

" _Legilimens_!"

Rita gasped as Narcissa walked her way through so much gossip and narcissism that she wanted to be sick.  Finally, she found the anger and humiliation Rita still felt at being captured by Draco.  Then, to the evident surprise of Rita, she pushed past it.

Only then did she find a chest with seven locks.  She pried at them trying to force her way in.

She only got one partially open – enough to see an old woman comforting a sobbing Rita – before she was forcefully thrown out.  The mental strength carried over to the physical world and the two former Slytherins found themselves thrown to the floor - panting.  Narcissa smiled, barely able to contain her pleasure.

"Are-are you going to give me away?"

There.  There was the real fear.

"No," she said simply as she stood up and dusted off her robes.  "In fact, I'm quite pleased.  You may be a twisted, narcissistic bitch, but you have a strong sense of self-preservation.  I find that very useful.”

“Useful for what?”

“Why, Rita darling, don’t you know by now that I never share my plans unless-“

“Unless it suits you.  How could I forgot?” She spit out the last sentence, and Narcissa knew exactly what the other woman was thinking of.  Not that they needed to bring that up, the past was the past.  And that incident had no repercussions on present events.

“I simply don’t know.  Just keep being yourself.  Stay alive, do what he tells you, and stay out of trouble.  Trust me if you want to survive this.  Now, I shall see you in the morning.”

Rita hadn’t moved from her spot on the floor when Narcissa reached the door and turned around, “Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to turn into a beetle.  The manor is warded so that only those with Malfoy blood may use an animagus form.”

“That’s illegal!” Rita hissed.

She arched one delicate eyebrow, “So?”

The reporter had no answer to that.  Narcissa spun on her heels and walked out.  She quickly threw up an alarm spell - as well as a simple lock - before going off to find that idiot Gilderoy Lockhart.

Truly, there was no rest for the wicked.  Especially on Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! I know! No Draco or Hermione at all in this chapter...
> 
> Next chapter we're back at Hogwarts, with our beloved main couple. I hope, despite the lack of our romantic leads, you enjoyed this chapter. Though I did show you some of what Hermione wrote... does that count?
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Oh, and, yes, Bellatrix is back.


	26. Emotions are Irrational

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco both learn and react to the prisoners escaping from Azkaban.

Hermione rubbed at her eyes and grimaced.  She was so tired, she knew she must look like a raccoon.  That was rather fitting, as it was Halloween - when muggles dressed up as anything but themselves.  And, despite her upbringing and inherited Black magic, she was a muggleborn.

She had dropped Astronomy and History of Magic, but she still had an extremely heavy course load.  Combine that with losing almost an entire week of studying as she wrote her article on the Marauder’s Academy and she was terribly behind.

She would have skipped the Halloween Feast, but she and Harry had always done something fun together on Halloween.  It helped keep the memories at bay, according to Padfoot.

Even now she knew she should stop and go to bed.  She looked around the empty common room and sighed at the piles of candy wrappers, spilled food, and disarrayed furniture.  The elves had to be itching to get in here and tidy up, but they prided themselves on never being seen unless called.  She was only making their job more difficult by staying up past midnight.

She looked down at the book in front of her: Ancient Runes of Storytelling.  When would she need to read or write stories in runes?  She planned to help keep Harry out of Voldemort's clutches and then set about changing the wizarding world.  Not be a writer.

She groaned and set down her quill before shutting the book.

She was so tired.

Not that she really wanted to sleep, she had a feeling that tonight would be a nightmare night.  

But she could at least vacate the common room and let the elves work.

A cold draft suddenly hit the back of her neck and she grabbed her wand and spun on her seat.

She blinked in tired confusion at the two people standing in the portrait hole.

"Padfoot?  Professor?"

"Hermione, I should have known you'd be awake," Padfoot said softly.

"I shall go get, Harry.  Though I don't believe-"

Padfoot cut the Headmaster off, "It doesn't matter what you believe, Albus.  I am Harry's guardian until he is seventeen.  And Hermione is of age."

Albus Dumbledore's brow wrinkled in a small frown for an instant before smoothing out.  With a small nod he headed off to the boys' dormitory.  Curious, and a little afraid, Hermione lowered her mental wall for the first time in almost two weeks.

Surprisingly, she found Harry awake.  She caught an image of a strange corridor before it disappeared as he realized she was there.

He could do no more than ascertain that she was alright before he heard the Headmaster opening his door.

She blinked and drew her mind back to herself.

"Harry was awake," she said.

"I'm not surprised.  There's a reason I always kept you busy and exhausted when you were younger," he said as he pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table next to her.

"Are you going to tell me why you're here?  I assume it has something to do with Voldemort."

He glanced over at the boys' staircase, "When Harry gets here.  You know, this room hasn't changed at all."

She watched his eyes skim over the cozy red and gold common room.  His eyes locked onto a small table near the fire with four comfortable seats for a moment and a flash of pain crossed his face.

"Did you really think it would change?  We still have the same Headmaster and Head of House."

"No, I suppose not," he said softly as Dumbledore and Harry emerged from the staircase.

When the four of them were seated together Dumbledore spoke, "I would like to state that I do not agree with this course, but I have been over ruled."  

Hermione glanced between the two men, taking in their hard stares and the blatant disapproval in the headmaster's cold blue eyes.

"Voldemort did something that made him very happy," Harry said with no emotion.  "What was it?"

Hermione stared at Harry in surprise and reached out through their link.  Images of him waking up as an image of a long corridor morphed into pure, sick pleasure.

She broke out to see Padfoot looking at Harry in confusion, but it was the look on the Headmaster's face that drew her attention.

He looked as if he'd just discovered something terrible.  As soon as he realized she was looking at him he schooled his features, adopting his previous expression.

"Azkaban was attacked and all of the prisoners either died or escaped with Voldemort."

A rushing filled Hermione's ears as Padfoot's words raced through her head.

Azkaban.  Escape.  Prisoners.

Bellatrix - she was free.

Her parents' killer.  The woman who had permanently engraved Hermione's flesh with sadistic gusto.

Images filled her head.  Images from every nightmare she'd ever had.  

Blood, so much blood.  The room around her was drenched with it.  A cackling laugh swept over her, accompanied by the sounds of her mother's terrified screams.

She felt her mouth open as a knife descended downwards.  The edge glinted as it caught the light.

"NO!!!" She screamed.  But, this time, she wasn't alone.  A warmth surrounded her and she realized she was no longer alone.

Another figure appeared.

Harry.

As she watched he stuck his wand out and shouted, "Stupefy!"

Bellatrix flew across the room from the force of the spell. Her knife bouncing harmlessly on the carpet.  Hermione stared at her limp form in shock before looking up at Harry.

He reached a hand out to help her up.  "I won't let her touch you again.  I promise," he said softly as she tentatively reached for his hand.

As skin met skin she felt a rush of warmth.  The wall she had so carefully put up lowered completely as she stood up.

Once she was on her feet he pulled her into a hug.  She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, feeling safe as his familiar smell enveloped her.

 After a while she opened her eyes to see she was once again back in the Gryffindor common room.  The red walls were no longer reminiscent of blood.  When she pulled away from Harry she saw Padfoot standing beside them, concern etched into every line on his face.

Interestingly, the Headmaster hadn't moved at all.

"Hermione?" Padfoot asked.

"I-I'm alright now.  I should have seen this coming.  Of course he'd want his followers out."

"We all should have seen this coming, Miss Black."

She looked at Professor Dumbledore, "How do we know it happened?  It had to have been done tonight."

Padfoot quirked an eyebrow at Dumbledore.  "We....have sources.  Several of them.  More importantly at the moment we know that the Ministry intends to not report this in the Daily Prophet.  The public needs to know."

"You want Hermione to write another article," Harry stated accusingly.

"No," Padoot said quickly.  "Xeno and Andy wrote an article.  We just want Hermione to look it over and agree to put her name on it.  With her previous article..." he trailed off.

Hermione took a deep breath and collected her thoughts.  After the waking nightmare and the strengthening of her link with Harry she felt filled with energy.  She likely still looked like a raccoon, but she no longer felt tired.  She'd likely crash in an hour, but until then, she'd do what she could.

She sat back down at the table, "Well, let me see it.  I need to go quickly if we want it in the morning papers.  Owls can only fly so fast."

"I have arranged several international portkeys to speed up the process," the Headmaster stated.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at that.  Despite him protesting telling her or asking for her assistance, he'd known she would help.  Was there anything Albus Dumbledore didn't know?

XXX

Draco watched as owl after owl landed in front of Pansy.  Until a few days ago he hadn't realized that there quite so many English newspapers in the world.  Sure, he supposed every English speaking country must have one, but quite a few of the non-English speaking countries did as well.  Even if some of those were actually a mixture of English and the local language.

A large barn owl dropped a paper and Draco quickly snagged it out of mid-air before it could drop into the pitch of pumpkin juice.  He glanced at the paper.  The Daily Gold, of course, only an American owl would be so rude as to just drop the paper and run.

Another owl - this was a nice-sized tufted owl - landed in front of him rather than Pansy and dropped its paper on his yet un-buttered toast.

How long are you going to keep getting all these papers?" he asked as he shooed the tufted owl away and picked up the paper.  He shook breadcrumbs off of it and watched as Pansy carefully folded the Tagalog Times and slipped it into her small drawstring bag.

"Most of the papers required a month long subscription to deliver internationally," she said primly.

He rolled his eyes and unrolled the paper in his hands.  It was The Fae Chronicles, an Irish paper he hadn't even realized existed until four days ago when the bloody owl dropped it into his tea.  The Irish owls seemed to have something against him personally.  

Pansy gasped next to him and he looked over at her in confusion.  "What?"

She pointed at the paper in his hands.  He looked back at it and felt his blood run cold.

**Impossible Prison? Apparently Not.**

**Last night, an anonymous source informed me of a prison break from Azkaban.  While the culprit has not been positively identified, the list of survivors makes the identity clear to me.  Every prisoner was either freed or killed.  Of those slain, none bore the Dark Mark on their left arm.  This comes straight from the British Auror report written and filed by Kingsley Shacklebolt at 12:24am.**

**Of those that escaped, only five were not incarcerated for deeds done while following He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's orders.  Of those five are two who were imprisoned for murder and torture, one who was quite loud in his hatred of muggleborns until being imprisoned for poisoning his third wife, and two rather famous writers with a penchant for lying and obliviation.  So, who knows what these two writers really think on the muggleborn situation.**

**Here are the facts my readers:**

  1. **Harry Potter was kidnapped and claimed to see the Dark Lord rise again.**
  2. **I saw You-Know-Who with my own eyes before being grievously injured.  As did Ginerva Weasley.**
  3. **The aurors reported evidence of multiple people, despite the British Minister of Magic saying there was no one but Barty Crouch Jr at the scene.**
  4. **The British Ministry of Magic and the main British newspaper, The Daily Prophet, have gone out of their way to discount our testimonies.  The testimonies they refused to take.**
  5. **Every confirmed follower of the Dark Lord Voldemort has just violently escaped from prison, leaving dozens dead in the process.**



**With these facts before you, I can only hope that you come to the same conclusion that I have.**

**Lord Voldemort has returned and he's not a merciful man.  If he even is still a man.  His eyes are now red, his voice is impossibly high-pitched, and his nose has become more snake-like than human.**

**Fellow Wizards and Witches of the world, be on your guard, for he won't stop at just attacking Azkaban.  He will not be content with conquering England.  He won't stop until we make him.  So, spread the word, look at the facts, and open your eyes to your own conclusions.**

"Your girlfriend really knows how to write.”

Draco jerked in surprise at Theo’s words and hit his teacup with the paper.  He stood up quickly as lukewarm tea spilled across the table and onto his lap.

“Bloody hell, Theo!  She’s not my girlfriend!  She’s my cousin!  By adoption!”

Theo snickered and Draco threw the paper in the other boy’s face before grabbing his bag.  Was he TRYING to get Draco killed?  

“Pansy, I’ll see you in Charms,” he said curtly before storming out. 

Anger and frustration coursed through him as he made his way upstairs to the nearest bathroom.  He took great pleasure in stomping his feet and growling at any student he passed that was idiotic enough to look at him. 

When he reached the restroom he stormed into a stall and slammed the door.  His hand was shaking in anger as he drew his wand.

Bloody hell!

There was no way he could safely aim a cleaning charm.

He threw his bag on the stall floor and angrily tore off his robe.  Then came his trousers.  His left foot got caught in the leg and he fell down, barely catching himself with his hands and almost breaking his wand in the process.

He muttered some choice words and quickly divested himself of his trousers before standing back up.  He took a deep breath and removed his pants, the tea had turned them into a sodden mess. 

Rather than risk a cleaning spell near himself he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and used his wand to pour water on it, letting the excess run into the toilet bowl.  After that he cast cleaning spells on his clothing as he air-dried.  By the time he finished he had calmed down enough that his hands no longer shook.

He couldn't even say why he was so angry.  It wasn't like Theo was the first person to call Hermione Black his girlfriend or fiancée.  It had occurred quite often after that article Skeeter published.

One good thing about the resurrection of the Dark Lord was that everyone assumed his mother had changed her mind about getting them married.

But he knew better. Whichever side won, if the two of them were alive his mother would do her best to make them break their vow and marry each other.  He certainly did not get his stubbornness from his father.

His father…

Draco stopped halfway through putting his trousers back on as his hands clenched into fists.  He had to stop himself from smashing his fist into the wall of the stall.

He knew what his father was.  He'd always suspected that he had lied about being under the _Imperius_.  Being given a tutor in dueling and defense right after the rumored resurrection had cinched it.  

That meant his father had helped with the breakout from Azkaban.  He had helped people like Rita Skeeter and Bellatrix Lestrange escape.  Draco wasn't a fool, he knew what writers Hermione had been alluding to in her article.  He suspected that if he hadn't angrily thrown the paper at Theo he would have found a list of names.

Skeeter had hurt his best friend and driven a wedge in their friendship that had only been recently repaired.  Draco never forgave anyone easily.  He'd only forgiven Pansy for sharing his secrets because she hadn't meant to.  Plus, losing weeks of your life, even if only temporarily, was punishment enough in his mind.

Lestrange was family, but she had not held that sacred. So he wouldn't hold it sacred either.  Hermione may not have been family when she was carved up like a side of meat, but Sirius Black had been.

Besides, Draco really didn't want to be family with someone that carved up little girls for fun.

Certain in that thought, he finished getting dressed and left the stall.  He took a look at himself in the mirror and grimaced.

He looked a downright mess.  His hair was out of place and his robes were wrinkled from the spells to eliminate the tea.

He pulled a quill out of his bag and transfigured it into a comb.  Once his hair was tidy he did his best to fix his clothing before storming back out of the loo.  A quick casting of _Tempus_ told him he would be late for Charms unless he managed to apparate inside of Hogwarts.

Not bloody likely.

He grumbled as he made his way to a nearby staircase and headed up.  Between the third and fourth floors he realized he was not going to make it to Charms at all.

He'd gotten his foot stuck in the bloody staircase.

"Bloody Hell!!!"  He screamed in frustration.

"Malfoy?"

He whirled to face the foot of the stairs as best he could, with his wand out.  All he needed now was for someone that hated him to find him...

There, standing at the bottom of the stairs was probably the last person on the entire planet he wanted to see.

Still, his eyes drank in the sight of her.  She looked positively exhausted, as if someone had wrung her dry. Her dark hair hung limp on her head.  None of the bounce or life it had been showing as it grew out.  Her eyes were ringed with shadows that only highlighted the pain and anger there.  

And her robes...

Unlike her brother, Hermione Black had always dressed as a pureblood witch should.  Her ties were straight, her shirts were crisp, and her robes spotless.

Today she looked like she had slept in her clothes - after wearing them all day yesterday.

"Don't you have class?" He found himself snapping at her.

Her eyes narrowed, but she just shrugged lightly.  "Don't you?"

"Theo, the bloody git, spilled tea on me at breakfast.  I was TRYING to get to Charms after repairing the damage when I stepped here!"  He jabbed his finger downwards at the offending step.

She cocked her head and frowned, "You were going to Charms?  You do realize you are almost on the fifth floor?"

He froze and stared at her in shock as his brain did some quick calculations.

Less than a minute later he was once again swearing.  This time cursing the founders of Hogwarts and their penchant for trick staircases, as well as hidden entrances.  

He'd forgotten the third floor on this staircase was accessed by a hidden doorway.

"Well, come on then, let's get you out of here."  She was smiling as she spoke.  As if it was an everyday occurrence for her to rescue boys from staircases and their own stupidity.

Actually, considering her friends, it likely was.

She aimed her wand at the ceiling and as he watched a rope came down and hung over his head.  There was a large knot at the end and he stared at it in confusion.

"Well, what are you waiting for?  Grab the rope and pull yourself out. I'm sure you can't wait to get away."

He had started to follow her directions but froze upon hearing the last sentence.

"What do you mean I can't wait to get away?"

Her smile slipped into a small frown, "Just what I said.  You've done your best to stay as far from me as possible in the past few months."

Something lurched inside of him as her smile disappeared.  It so distracted him that it took a moment for her words to register.  And then another minute before he had deciphered the emotions present in her voice.

By that time she had snapped, "Put the rope back up when you’re free," and turned on her heel - disappearing out of the stairwell.

He stared after her for half a heartbeat and then reached up and grabbed the rope.  It took all of his strength to pull himself out of the step.  It really didn’t want to let go.

Once he was free he took off running, heading back down the stairs, Charms class was utterly forgotten.

He reached the corridor and looked frantically around.  He cursed under his breath as he saw her disappear around a corner at the far end of the corridor.  He was a bloody idiot.  He’d thought staying away was best, after all, he was the nephew of the woman that carved her up, as well as the son of a Death Eater.  He hadn’t stopped to think that actively avoiding someone after learning one of their darkest secrets – and he was a hundred percent positive those scars were her biggest secret – would make her feel worse. 

He had to explain.  She was logical.  She’d understand why he’d done it, though he didn’t know why she cared.  Merlin, he didn’t know why he cared.

He skidded around the corner and saw her stop at the foot of another stairwell and look back at him.

He picked up his pace and ran towards her.  As he watched her eyes widened before she spun around and raced up the stairs.

“Circe!  Show some bloody Gryffindor courage, Hermione!” he hissed as he tried to lengthen his stride.  He dare not yell after her.  All he needed was a curious professor to poke their head out and see him – a Death Eater’s son – chasing after Hermione Black.

It just wouldn’t look good.

When he reached the stairwell he just caught a glimpse of her robes as she ran past the entrance to the fifth floor and continued upwards.  He took the steps two at a time, his breath ragged as he tried to keep pace with Hermione’s speed. 

She’d obviously finished recovering from the curse if she could once again run him ragged through the halls.  Even if she looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks.

When she reached the seventh floor she could go no longer continue her trek upwards.  He followed her into the corridor, slowly closing the gap between them as exhaustion finally began to slow her speed.

When he saw her looking around fearfully for a place to hide, he almost stopped.  He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. 

But, no, she wasn’t thinking clearly.  He’d made a magical promise to never hurt her.  She’d know if he intended to break it.  And she may be a muggleborn, but she was raised in the magical world.  She knew this.

Ergo, she wasn’t thinking rationally.

That thought did make him slow down at just the worse possible moment.  As she ran down a section of the hall that he was rather familiar with a door appeared in the wall.  She wrenched it open and threw herself inside.

He cursed and sped up, leaping towards the doorway, hand outstretched.

Time seemed to slow down as he watched her yank the door shut just as his hand got between the door and the doorframe.

Sadly, the small voice in the back of his head that pointed out rather coldly just how much he deserved this for chasing someone down against their will was not loud enough to mask the sound of bones crunching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, all Hermione and Draco with the promise of another chapter centered on them next week :) 
> 
> And, yes, I suppose you could call that a cliffhanger.


	27. Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione deals with Draco's broken hand and he attempts to speak with her.

Hermione froze as soon as she saw the pale fingers slip between the door and its resting spot.  But it was too late, the door was too heavy and reinforced and it had gained a momentum of its own.  

A loud crunch filled the air and she winced and gasped at the realization of what had occurred.  Whatever haze had been clouding her mind cleared instantly as she felt her promise with Malfoy twinge.  She'd hurt him.  It had been unintentional, but it had happened.

"Malfoy!" 

She shoved her shoulder against the door and pushed it outwards, wincing as Malfoy's mangled hand was immediately yanked back.  He sat there on the floor, his hand cradled against his chest and his face twisted in silent pain.

She saw blood dribbling down his face from where he'd obviously bitten his lip.

She knelt down, "Malfoy?  We need to go to the hospital wing."  When he didn't respond she tried again.  "Malfoy?  Malfoy!"  

He didn't respond and she began to panic.  Instantly she felt Harry in her mind.  When he realized it wasn't her that was injured he sent a memory of him hugging and humming to her; instantly she felt the panic slip away.  Her mind began to clear and she took a deep breath.  What would Narcissa do?

 Well, she knew what Narcissa would do first; she never called him Malfoy.

"Draco!"

At his given name he looked up at her and she gasped.  His eyes were dilated and filled with tears.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

"Draco, I'm so sorry!  Can you stand?"

"It hurts," he whined.

"I know, we need to see Madam Pomfrey."

He didn't move so she pleaded with him, "Please, Draco, I can't fix it.  I don't know the spells."

"You always know the spells."  His tone was such that he sounded utterly lost and confused, not to mention in pain.

"We're only sixth-years.  Medical spells are beyond-NEWT level charms and transfiguration."   
"Oh," he said dazedly as he allowed her to get a hold on his good arm and pull him to feet.  She didn't dare cast a spell on his arm to immobilize it.  She just didn't know if it would do more harm.  

She got his good arm slung around her shoulder and began helping him back to the staircase they'd just run up. He wobbled on his feet as he had to lean down to effectively keep his arm around her shoulders.  He was, somehow, a good head taller than her now.

When had that happened?

 She felt him rub his head against the top of hers as they reached the staircase.

She froze, "Malfoy, what are you doing?"

He ignored her and kept doing it. "So soft," she heard him murmur.

She hurriedly began moving again.  This was very un-Malfoy like behavior and that worried her.  That worried her a lot.  She cursed under her breath for not studying more books on healing and medicine.  Everything she’d read had been about her own healing process, not broken bones or shock.

Going down the stairs was difficult as he seemed to be having trouble keeping his balance.  She was also sure that his insistence on rubbing against her like a cat was doing nothing to help.

Somehow they made it to the correct floor without him falling or passing out.  There was a near moment when he slipped on a step and jostled his arm.  His good arm tightened around her shoulders and she felt herself pressed firmly against his side.  She gasped and felt warmth flood her face that she pointedly ignored as he regained his footing before they continued on.

"You're so brave," he said softly as she led him out of the stairwell.  "How did you survive it? I-" he gasped as his hand moved a bit.

"Survive what?" she asked.  Hoping that this more rational question was a good sign.  At least he'd stop rubbing her head.

"Everything."

His good hand pulled up her sleeve and a bit of one scar showed before she yanked it down again.

"Don't!!!" She hissed.  She almost tossed him off of her.

"Sorry," he said softly before resuming to rub his head against her hair.  "Bad day to talk about that.  I-I didn't know."

She stopped and looked up at him, forcing his cheek to leave her hair.  Part of her felt bereft at the sudden loss of contact.

"Didn't know what?"

"Azkaban."

Her eyes met his.  They were so dilated they were almost pure black, with just a hint of silver.  It reminded her a bit of the moon, right as it began to grow full again.

"Don't lie to protect your family."

He shook his head and her skin tingled where his chin brushed against her forehead.

"That person isn't family.  You are."

Thoughts tumbled through her mind at his words.  She couldn't make heads or tails of them.  She was so exhausted, so stressed, and now completely confused.

Thankfully, she was saved a response by a door opening nearby.

She looked up to see Professor Snape entering the corridor, a case of empty potion bottles floating along behind him.

He froze for half an instant upon sight of them.  And then things were a rush of motion.  He was demanding answers, she was trying to satisfy, but Malfoy kept saying odd things and also refusing to let go of her.  She didn't dare get physical or use magic on him as his hand had swollen to be almost the same size as Hagrid's.

This led to her sitting on a hospital bed, still tucked under his arm, as Madam Pomfrey began working on his hand.  Snape was standing nearby and eyeing them speculatively.  She really didn't like the look in his eyes.  It reminded her of Naricssa Malfoy.  Though she knew the two couldn't be in cahoots.  

Could they?

No, there was no way.  Snape and Padfoot hated each other terribly.  Part of why Mrs. Longbottom had taken the DADA position, not Padfoot.  There was no way Snape would involve himself in matrimonial plans for Padfoot's daughter.

No way.

Unless…

No, even Snape wouldn’t stoop to arranging marriages that would anger his old school rival.

"There you go, Mr. Malfoy.  You're all healed.  Just treat it carefully for the next twenty-four hours as the bones finish hardening.  I'll give you a sling to wear.  Also, drink this."

She pushed a potion into his hands.

Hermione felt more than saw Malfoy look up at the Potions Master.  She didn't blame him, he'd already taken a potion for pain and another to reduce swelling.

"Drink up, Mr. Malfoy.  It's just some vitamins to help your body recover from shock," Snape drawled.  He was eyeing Draco's good hand, which was curved around Hermione's upper arm.

Draco held out the potion to Hermione and she rolled her eyes, but opened it for him.  He used his good hand to drink it, which pulled her closer against him.  She tried to stifle a blush.

Her day was just getting odder and odder.  She supposed it was rather fitting that the day after Bellatrix Lestrange escaped Azkaban was not a normal one.  At least she was no longer wandering the halls in a half-daze like before.  She felt Harry check on her once more, she showed him she was fine and then sent him an image of her lecturing him on not studying properly.  He laughed and disappeared.  

They may not be able to use the blood ward link for actual speaking, but they had enough shared memories and experiences to make images a feasible mode of communication.

"Now it's your turn, dear."

Hermione blinked up at the mediwitch in surprise.

"My turn?"

"Yes, you are obviously exhausted, dehydrated, and malnourished.  And from the tension around your eyes I think a good calming draught may also be in order."

Madam Pomfrey bustled off before Hermione could respond.

She watched the woman go before spinning to look up at Malfoy.  His features were schooled in innocence, but she didn't believe him for one moment.  He'd done his best to keep her in Madam Pomfrey's sights the entire time his hand was healed.

"You..." she started as her eyes narrowed.

"Family keeps each other safe.  Even from ourselves," he whispered into her ear. 

"Family, again?  I'm adopted!  Your mother is trying to marry us, for Merlin’s sake!" she hissed in response, trying to pull away.

His fingers tightened on her arm, keeping her trapped against his side.  She tried to jab him with her elbow, but he carefully moved his recently injured appendage into her only target area. 

She ground her teeth in frustration.  Even she wasn’t sadistic enough to hit recently healed bone.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Snape deliberately look away and walk over to Madam Pomfrey, where she was pulling potions out of a cabinet.  Maybe he was in cahoots with Narcissa.  She'd have to do some research.  Maybe they were in school together.

"I'm family with my mother and she calls you and Sirius Black family.  Ergo, that makes you family to me.  Besides," he added, "I made a promise."

She scowled.  That promise did not include taking care of each other!  It was to stop them from hurting each other!  Besides, he'd just spent the past two months avoiding her! Why had he chased her?  

She opened her mouth to ask that very question, but the return of Madam Pomfrey with several potions made her hold her tongue.  

While she drank them Professor Snape took his leave, but not before a pointed look at Malfoy and instructions to come to his office after dinner.

Hermione finally divested herself of Malfoy's arm when he had to put on the sling.  She rushed out of the room, but ahe wasn't fast enough.

He cornered her at the top of another stairwell. Once again he got too close to her, using his body to block her possible movements.  She got her wand out and pointed it at his face.

"What do you think you're doing?!?" she hissed.

"I need you to listen to me."

She glared, "And what if I don't want to listen?"

"You have to listen, please."

Shock coursed through her at his words, as well as the earnest expression on his face.

"What?  A please? And no demands?  No telling me you'll make me listen?"

He shook his head.

"I don't believe it."

"But-"

"No!  I don't care if we're family!  I don't care about a bloody promise we made two years ago!  And I don't care if you didn't know about Azkaban!  I can bet your parents knew!  Oh, yes, I can see you agree with that statement!" And, truly, she could see it on his face.  He knew Voldemort was being helped by one, if not both, of his parents.

"Oh, did you think I didn't know your mother's pleas in court kept my parents' murderer from receiving the kiss?  After all, she only brutally tortured and killed two muggles."  She practically spat out the last sentence.  Rage was filling her as she looked up into grey eyes that now looked remarkably similar to a crazed set she saw in her nightmares.

"No! I-"

She was done.  She didn't want to hear it.  She didn't care anymore that she'd crushed his hand.  He'd chased her through Hogwarts. She'd taken him to the hospital wing, where he had proceeded to restrain her and use his injury and shock to stop her from fighting back.

But now she was fine.  She was fine and she was going to-

"Miss Black, there you are."

Malfoy gulped audibly as Hermione turned to look at the mediwitch who had just approached.

"I didn’t give you the calming draught, yet."

Hermione stared at the small vial in Madam Pomfrey's hand and tried to make sense of the words.  But it was hard, rage was still boiling up inside her, demanding vengeance against those that had hurt her and hers. 

She felt Malfoy reach out and take her hand in his, slowly lowering it and moving her wand away from his neck.

Madam Pomfrey looked between the two of them before shaking her head sadly.  "Now, Miss Black, you will put that wand away at once and drink this potion.  Otherwise I shall be forced to find the nearest professor."

At the word professor something clicked in Hermione's head and she realized just what was going on inside of her.

Her magic was in turmoil.  Demanding vengeance against a target she couldn't reach.  It only cared that Malfoy was Bellatrix's nephew and that there was the possibility it would upset her to lose him.  

But her magic wasn't all of her.  And her brain didn't want to kill or injure him.  He'd never actually harmed her.  She knew that.  And, if she thought on it, she realized she'd know if he ever planned to do so.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm her magic down.  It took some effort, but once she got it mildly contained she realized that Harry was mentally poking her, trying to find out if she okay.

She sent him a quick image of the stream by Luna's house as she turned and looked back up at Malfoy.

It was the look in his eyes and on his face that let her regain full control of her magic.

His face was full of fear, but under that, was an emotion she couldn't quite identify.

Scratch that, she likely could identify it, but she really didn't want to.  It complicated things too much.

She looked down at his pale hand enveloping her own and felt something inside of her jerk.  For a moment her hand tightened on her wand. 

"Miss Black?"

She cursed and jerked away from Malfoy, trying to ignore how nice his hand had felt on hers. With one smooth motion she turned, grabbed the potion, and downed it.

Instantly she felt all of her emotions drain away as a bone deep weariness settled over her.  She felt her eyes flutter closed and her ability to stay upright disappeared.

Her last thought before darkness overtook her was that Malfoy had very fast reflexes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's a bit on the shorter end, but that's a good place to end the chapter. The next scene just wasn't suited to ending it. As for the door, it is the RoR and Hermione wanted someplace safe to hide. The door accommodated her. My mother once fractured several bones in her foot from a security door closing on it after she tripped and fell. And there was no one yanking on it at the time, like Hermione was here.
> 
> Also I apologize for taking so long to reply to reviews this week and posting on Sunday. It was Chuseok here (Korean Thanksgiving) so I was kept rather busy.
> 
> Enjoy!


	28. The Malfoy Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is found by Harry, Lucius is comforted by Narcissa, and Hermione refuses to listen.

Draco barely got his good arm moving fast enough to stop Hermione from hitting her head on the stone floor.  He grunted and slowly lowered her the rest of the way to the ground.  Once she was safe from smashing her skull in he glared up at Madam Pomfrey, "Did you know that would happen?"

She shook her head as she drew her wand, "Miss Black was clearly exhausted.  Only the power of her emotions, fueled by her magic, was keeping her awake.  And, no, Mr. Malfoy, I did not realize she was quite that far gone.  Otherwise I would have made it impossible for her to leave the Hospital Wing.  Now, please move and I shall levitate her to a bed."

Draco moved back and watched as Hermione was magically lifted off the floor, her robes were hanging at an odd angle, exposing her sock-clad calves.  He reached out and yanked the robes down, covering her up.

Madam Pomfrey began to float Hermione away and he made to stand up and follow.  In doing so something clattered across the floor.  He looked down and saw her wand lying there.  It looked like a mere stick of wood, utterly harmless.  Nothing at all like the deadly weapon he knew it to be.

He reached down and picked it up with his left hand.  He shivered as the wand acknowledged him and then promptly discarded him as unworthy.  

He gave it a small flick, "Lumos."

Light appeared just fine, but it was not very bright.  He frowned and focused, trying to increase the light, but all it did was flicker.

Apparently the wand was as temperamental as its mistress.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?"

He jerked and guiltily lowered the wand.

"Potter, why aren't you in class?"

"I asked you a question first."

Draco shrugged and tried to look innocent.  He'd not talked to Potter since their Knight Bus ride to St. Mungos. "I was curious, that's all.  Here, it's your sister's."

Harry frowned but reached out and took the wand.  "And to answer, Defense is finished.  I have a free class and came looking for Hermione."

"She's in the hospital wing."

"Wait, what?!?" Potter looked up from the wand, his eyes going wide.  "But, she wasn't the one that was injured!"

Draco rolled his eyes - not even questioning how Potter knew what had happened, he already knew those two had some strange connection - and gestured towards his right arm in the sling.  "I was the one that was injured.  She just collapsed from exhaustion.  You really need to take better care of your sister.  I didn't save her from death's door just to let her destroy her own health."

Potter scowled, "You want to blame me for her exhaustion?  Do you realize how bloody stubborn she is?  I told her to sleep in after she got the news last night.  Instead she rewrites that entire article and then collapses at the table in exhaustion!  Ginny swore she was asleep in bed when we came down to breakfast."

"Apparently not, as she found me on a staircase just as the first class was starting."  And, because his hand still felt wrong, not to mention some leftover dizziness from being in so much pain, he released a jab he hadn't uttered in years.  As soon as it was out of his mouth he regretted it, there was no reason for the nasty words.  He didn’t want to be like that anymore.  Besides, Pansy was going to kill him.  That is, if Hermione didn't recover and get to him first.  "Apparently your girlfriend is too stupid to realize when someone is faking.  Not surprising, as she is related to Weasel."

Instantly Potter's hands clenched into fists and a thunderous expression filled his face.

Reflexively, Draco took a step backwards in fear.  He knew he couldn't move fast enough with his left hand to draw his wand, and forget casting a spell - he was pants at casting off-hand everything but the most basic spells.

Forget Pansy and Hermione, Potter might just kill him.

"You," Potter spat, "are a supreme git.  And here I thought you'd changed."

Draco's jaw dropped, "Changed?"

"Yes, changed.  I actually was beginning to like and respect you after you saved Hermione.  Then you did something to upset her on the train ride to Hogwarts and now you're insulting my girlfriend just for laughs.  Maybe the apple doesn't fall as far from the tree as I thought it did."

Draco frowned at Potter's use of the apple tree expression.  Memories of Theo's conversation with him last year resurfaced, along with the fact that he really didn't want to be like his father anymore.  Besides, he hadn't meant to upset her on the train.  

He deflated at the memory of her face before she ran from him in a panic.  Sometimes he wished...

No, it didn't matter what he wished.  He had reality to contend with.  And right now reality was comprised of a horrifically angry Harry Potter.  

"Well?  Not going to defend yourself?"

Draco cocked his head to the side and studied Potter.  The boy had once been his arch-nemesis.  All because he'd refused to give up being friends with the Weasel.  Now, Draco knew what an idiot he'd been back then.  If Potter had demanded he give up being friends with Pansy....

Well, let's just say things wouldn't have been pretty.

"I'm sorry, Potter.  I shouldn't have said that.  And as for the train...well, if Hermione hasn't told you what happened, then I won't either.  But just know that it was all an accident, and she knows this.  I just reacted in the wrong manner.  I got injured trying to apologize and explain to her."

Potter's eyebrows shot up, "You called her Hermione."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Of course you'd focus on that.  Yes, I did.  She's family, besides, I risked my safety to save her life.  Calling her Black just doesn't fit anymore."

Potter relaxed somewhat, and Draco was pleased to see that his eyes no longer sparkled like sharp emeralds, though his hair still seemed to spark with each small movement.

"Is this a trick?"

Draco shook his head, "No trick, Potter.  I spoke without thinking.  I'm not exactly thinking clearly at the moment."

Silence stretched between them as Potter internally debated his words.  That was, until a group of third-years passed by them, heading up the stairs and shooting curious glances.  

That woke Potter up, he gave his head a shake, "Whatever, I'm going to go check on Hermione.  Just stop doing things you need to apologize for."

Draco watched Potter walk away.  He walked just like Sirius Black.  Both of them moved with a grace that any panther would envy.  You just had to watch them move to know that it would be perilous to cross them.  He suddenly felt very glad that his mother had mended bridges with her family.  If he'd continued to act towards them as he had throughout their first two years at Hogwarts...

Well, he might just look a bit like Mad-Eye Moody.  That is, if he was still capable of breathing.

As soon as the Gryffindor was out of sight he felt his muscles relax as he lost the tension and hyper-awareness he'd been feeling ever since Hermione had drawn her wand on him.  Strangely, a part of him felt empty, and he didn't even know why.

XXX

Narcissa had her wand trained on the door before the latch had even finished turning.  It was a terrible feeling to once again not feel safe in your own home.  Not that they had had a choice.  When the Dark Lord requested something you obeyed, or you died.

And Lucius was still too much under that man's thrall to disobey him over using his house as a headquarters.

She relaxed once he door opened fully to reveal her husband.  A moment later she was on her feet and rushing over to the door, taking him into her arms and pushing the door shut with her foot.

He was shaking and his skin was ghostly pale.

A quick flick of her wand and a muttered spell put locks on the door that would take a good fifteen minutes to dismantle - giving them plenty of warning.

He buried his face in her hair as he continued to shake.  She rubbed his back, trying her best to comfort him.  There really wasn't much she could do, at least when it came to this.  Especially as she knew it was partly her fault.  But, much as she loved her husband, her son was more important.

After a time the shaking subsided and he took a deep breath.

"He blames me for not controlling the Ministry enough.  He wanted no one to know of the breakout as there is no one possible to blame for it."

She pulled back and looked at him with somewhat genuine surprise.  "He truly thought that no one would notice the largest prison break in magical history?  Many of the human guards there have family and friends that would enquire after them."

Lucius rolled his eyes, "He planned to release something about a potions mix-up that poisoned the food, killing everyone."

"And when someone saw one of the convicts alive and well?  Never mind, forget that question.  Of course they would never live to tell the tale."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before painfully reaching up to undo the top button on his robes.  She gently brushed his hands away and took over. 

"Do you want me to draw up a bath?"  She brushed his sweat-damp hair out of his face once his robes were undone.

He nodded slowly and painfully, "Please.  He almost went too far.  Skeeter had to help me up the stairs after the meeting ended."

Narcissa's eyes rose at that, but inwardly she was pleased.  Apparently her old classmate thought she was almost as scary as the Dark Lord if she was doing things like that.  "Did anyone see her?"

"Just Lockhart, and he's keeping his head down.  He won't give away information for an uncertain reward."

She helped him to the bathroom and turned the knobs to fill the tub.  He was right about Lockhart.  That man had quickly seen just what being in the Dark Lord's inner circle entailed, and it was obvious he wanted no part in it.  So far only Bella had escaped the Dark Lord's wrath, though Lucius had fared the worst by far.

The loss of that old diary had truly enraged the old megalomaniac.  It made Narcissa wonder just what it had been.  She had never before seen such towering rage from the monster.  After he had calmed a bit he had declared that perhaps his ranks needed some new, fresh blood.

The very thought filled Narcissa with fear.  Only over her dead body would she let Draco become a Death Eater.

Sadly, that was a distinct possibility, as she was no match against the Dark Lord.  Nor was Lucius.

"Oh, love, this is magnificent,” Lucius said as he slipped into the bubble filled water, a look of intense pleasure on his face.

That gave Narcissa a splendid idea.

She flicked her wand at the bathroom door, using the same spells she'd used on the bedroom door.  She felt her magic sing as she locked her husband up so that no one could touch him.  Not even the Dark Lord could enter easily. 

She'd always excelled at locking up what was hers.

And the naked man in the tub was, at least for the moment, entirely hers.

With that thought she removed her own robes and slipped into the large tub next to him.

He let out a moan of appreciation as skin met skin and she smiled.

Yes, he was all hers.

XXX

Hermione, to her annoyance, felt better than she had in months upon awaking in the Hospital Wing on the second day of November.  She'd endured a lecture on self-care from the mediwitch, as well as admonishments from Harry and a letter from Padfoot that would have been a howler if he had anything but pure hatred for those things.

Uncle Remus had told her once about the regular howlers he had received from his mother while at Hogwarts.  Apparently they’d gotten so bad that McGonagall had begun routing all owls directed at Padfoot through her office.

Sadly, her renewed health had not stopped the nightmares from returning.  They were mild compared to what she had once suffered, but they were relentless.  After the fourth night in a row Harry leant her the invisibility cloak and she took to sleeping in his bed.  She would sneak up to his room once everyone was asleep and let him hum her to sleep.

Only there did the nightmares stay away.

Neville and Ron said nothing about this, they both knew of her nightmares.  Ron had even witnessed a few as they were growing up.  Dean and Seamus slept like the dead, she didn't think an attacking dragon would wake them.

But Mclaggen worried her.  More than once she'd caught him watching her with eyes that were impossible to read.  They didn't make her feel dirty, but they did make her feel like she'd done something incredibly wrong.  Improbable, as it was he that had done terrible things.

So, despite all sorts of horrific things occurring in the world, her life at Hogwarts returned to a semblance of normality, except for one thing.

Draco Malfoy.

She was at a loss to understand exactly why he had stopped avoiding her.  She didn't remember much after Padfoot had told her about Bellatrix Lestrange's escape.  Everything was rather hazy, making her unsure what memories were real and which were figments of her imagination.

She knew she had edited Mr. Lovegood's article quite a bit.  She also knew she had gone to bed, but been unable to sleep, so she had cast an illusion on her bed and wandered the halls of Hogwarts.

She was sure that she hadn't been wandering for too long when she had found Malfoy.

After that things got very hazy.  There had been running, a broken hand, hair nuzzling (She was positive that was her imagination.), Professor Snape acting oddly, and her coming within inches of giving into the bloodlust her magic had created.

Thank Merlin that Madam Pomfrey had arrived when she did.

Now, well rested and thinking clearly she didn't want to hurt Malfoy at all.  In fact, she felt the oddest urge to protect him, though she didn't know from what.  The only thing even remotely threatening in his life at the moment was her.

And she wasn't going to reach a point where she lost control again.  She hated the lost memories and the feelings that lingered.  It reminded her terrifyingly of when she’d pictured Malfoy's broken and bloody body in the carnage of her empty classroom.

At that thought she looked up and over at where she had imagined him lying.  It was hard to picture as the desks were now arranged neatly, not thrown about, as they had been.

It was almost the end of November now.  Almost two years ago he’d confronted her about Narcissa and her wedding plans.  Almost two years since he’d called her a mudblood.

And now he was keeping silent about her scars, chasing her through corridors, ensuring she acquired medical attention, and – most oddly – giving her the most peculiar smiles whenever she happened to look at him.

How had things changed so quickly?

They were by no means anywhere close to following Narcissa Malfoy’s plans, but they were a lot closer than she’d ever thought they would be.

And Hermione was rather sure that almost every moment of their growing alliance had been orchestrated by Draco Malfoy’s mother.

That woman was bloody dangerous.

A soft knock sounded on the doorframe and she looked up to see the object of her thoughts in the doorway.  Oddly enough, he looked rather hesitant and- Her thoughts paused, unsure of what word to use to describe what else she saw on his face.

His rather handsome face, to be exact.

When had he become so handsome?  Was he always this way?  Had she just been blind?

No.  She wasn’t blind.

“Yes?”

“Can we talk?”

She eyed him curiously and tried to lift one eyebrow.  She was sad to note that she didn’t quite manage it, as her right eyebrow tagged along for part of the ride with her left one.

She really needed to practice more in front of a mirror before using that expression.

“About what?”

“What happened on the train.”

She felt her entire body tense up, “Drop it, Malfoy.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, but can I explain why I was avoiding you afterwards?”

Part of her clamored to know, but the rest of her asked why she should care.  He’d been disgusted by her, shocked at the vile words carved into her flesh like runes on a stone.  Why did he need to explain?  Was this going to be some half-assed apology?  Likely.

“No.”

“Hermione, please, I need to-“

She stood up suddenly and pulled out her wand.  She didn’t aim it at him, but his eyes still widened at the sight.

“Drop it, Malfoy.  I don’t discuss anything about THAT.  With ANYONE, understand?  And don’t call me Hermione, I didn’t give you permission.”

His eyes flashed before he spoke, “May I please call you Hermione?”

“No.”

His silver eyes flashed again, but a little differently.  They almost looked…hurt.  But that couldn’t be right.

“Why not?  You may call me Draco, we are family.”

She scoffed, “If you haven’t forgotten, there’s a war starting out there.  We’re on different sides, we can’t exactly act chummy with each other by using first names.”

His lips twisted into a wry smile, “Point.”

“Malfoy…”

“Fine, Black.  I won’t call you Hermione, at least in public.  But I’m not going to stop thinking it.”

Frustration bubbled up inside of her, but she stomped it down, she was NOT going to lose control around Draco Malfoy.  Not again.

“What is with you?  Why are you so determined to call me Hermione?”

“Can I explain about what happened after the train?”

“No!”

He shrugged, “Then I guess I can’t answer your question.”

“Arrgghh!  Get out!”

She aimed her wand at him and he stared at it for a moment before slowly backing out of the room.  Once he was out of sight she lowered her wand and almost sagged in relief.  She could barely stand to look at her limbs when she washed at the moment.  There was no way she was going to discuss ANYTHING about them right now.

She jerked in surprise when she heard him say from down the corridor, “Have a good day, _Black_.”

She groaned at the way he said her name and fell back into her chair.  Bloody hell.  Just what had gotten into him?

Rolling her eyes in annoyance at boys and all the nonsense they created, she pulled the book she’d been reading off the desk and into her lap.

Her finger moved over the page until she found where she had left off - _is a distinct creation.  No two are equivalent, nevertheless, links can be fashioned amongst wands when…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say I'm utterly amazed at the responses to this story? The lovely reviews I keep getting are what keep me writing. I'm actually (knock on wood) getting ahead in the writing process for the first time since I got the news about my grandmother. If I can get far enough ahead to get everything written I'll start posting twice a week - promise. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	29. Childhood is Finite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice and Sirius change their relationship. Hermione continues to think on a problem. Draco and Lucius have a heart to heart.

The bed shifted and Sirius looked over to see his bedmate sitting up and stretching. He took a moment to appreciate her muscular curves. For a moment he wished for dark red hair to curtain those delicious shoulder blades, but then he shook his head. No, that was dangerous thinking. He had an arrangement with Alice. Besides, he really didn't want a potentially serious girlfriend.

"It's nearly time to go pick up the children."

He smiled and sat up, "They won't be children much longer. Hermione is already seventeen and the others will quickly follow."

Alice scoffed as she bent over and picked up her clothes. "They will always be children in my mind, no matter how old they get."

His smile widened, "So, when Neville marries Pansy Parkinson and gives you grandchildren it will be a case of children begetting children?"

She shuddered as she slipped into her pants, "Don't say such things. I'm much too young to be a grandmother."

"You also married your childhood sweetheart and almost immediately popped out a kid. If he takes after you then of course you'll be a young grandmother."

Sirius slipped into his own clothes as he spoke, there was no time to dawdle. With Death Eaters on the loose he wanted to be at the platform before the train got in.

"And you'll be a young grandfather. I just bet Harry and Ginny will take after their parents and start early. You know part of why Molly never sealed her magic at her wedding was because it was too late. She already had a bun in her oven."

He rolled his eyes, "I know that. And much as I adore Molly and Arthur I don't really want to think about them playing between the sheets."

She snickered and walked over to the mirror to tidy her short brown hair as he buttoned up his woolen robes.

"Point."

"Thanks, partner. Now, do you want to arrange another meeting before Christmas vacation is up? I'm sure we'll be able to find a few private moments."

She set the comb down and draped her own winter cloak around her shoulders. "No, this is the last time."

He froze and looked at her in shock, "What?"

"I said, this is the last time. You almost said the wrong name and I know you were picturing a different face."

"Alice..."

"No, don't apologize. You know I sometimes do the same. Now," she held up her well-manicured hand to forestall any comments from him, "I want your Christmas gift to me to be you asking her on a real date. According to Tonks she can't keep her eyes off of you."

"But-" He floundered, trying to come up with a reason not to do this. He was comfortable, and he had bigger worries right now. He didn't need a real relationship. The friends with benefits thing had worked for almost ten years now. "She-she's almost a decade younger than me!"

Alice rolled her eyes and picked up a comb and set to work tidying his hair and tying it at the nape of his neck.

"Sirius, she's only seven years younger and didn't you just tell Remus two months ago that age wasn't important?"

"That-that's different!"

She pulled back and gave him a piercing gaze. "It is? How?"

He couldn't think of an answer she would accept, so he took a different path, "I have two children! Children that are almost grown! I could end up with another child that is the same age as my grandchildren!"

"Sirius Orion Black, that is a lousy excuse. You're just afraid to let someone in. And it may have torn me apart to lose Frank, but I never regretted a single moment with him. And if I could go back I would change nothing. Understand?"

He nodded mutely.

"Good, now I want you to ask her tomorrow. If you don't I shall enlist Andromeda's help. Got it?"

His eyes widened at the thought of his cousin combining forces with one of his best friends.

It was bloody terrifying.

"Fine, I'll ask her."

She smiled at that and slipped her sturdy dragonhide boots on before leaving the room.

He watched her go and let out a sigh of resignation.

But, even as he slipped on his own boots and followed her out he was thinking of and discarding every restaurant in Wizarding Britain.

If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

XXX

Hermione felt the train begin to slow down. Annoyed at the bad timing, she carefully put away the old tomb on wandlore she'd been reading. She knew about the connection between Harry and Voldemort's wand - Olivander had informed them that Harry's wand had a brother during their first year.

She just had to determine WHY Harry's holly and phoenix feather wand had chosen him. What had drawn the twin core to Harry?

Sadly, the tomes she had been studying were rather skimpy on details. Typically brother wands went to two people with similar personalities or family magic.

She knew for a fact that there was no connection between Harry and Tom Riddle in either category.

But there had to be a reason. There just HAD to be.

"Hey, 'Mione, you coming?"

She shoved aside thoughts of wands and links, she'd continue her research at home.

"Yes, let's go."

She grabbed their bags and followed Harry off, allowing him to maneuver their trunks. As they walked past the loo she heard retching and looked in to see Crabbe worshiping the porcelain god.

She couldn't help but let her lips twist into a sneer. Likely he'd indulged in too many sweets. Couldn't have happened to a nicer Slytherin.

She delibrately stopped herself from wondering why Crabbe was without his Malfoy overlord.  She'd spent the past month doing her best to avoid him.  She wasn't going to break that by thinking of him now.

Not when she had weeks before she had to see him again.

XXX

Lucius watched the Hogwarts express chug cheerfully up to the station. Every time he saw it he was thrown back to his own school years.

He missed those years. Life had been simple, nothing was life or death. Now...now he truly feared for his family.

Luckily the Dark Lord was off somewhere, he would be gone for a week. That meant there was still a week before Lucius lost his son.

And he knew he would lose him, even if Draco didn't get marked until he was seventeen. The Dark Lord was just too powerful. What he wanted, he took. And Malfoys were too easily taken.

If he wanted Draco, then Lucius didn't think he'd be able to stop it from happening.

The train screeched to a halt and the crowded station became flooded with cheerful students a moment later. All of them were bundled up against the cold, wearing scarves and hats that demonstrated their House loyalties for all to see.

It wasn't hard to find Potter and his friends. It was easy to see the small herd of Gryffindors infiltrated by one Slytherin and one Ravenclaw.

He watched as his wife's cousin and the other parents approach. Roy Parkinson offered a polite handshake to Sirius Black and Lucius found himself wanting to break into hysterical laughter.

There, on the platform was a peaceful exchange between two people with very different ideals.

If the Dark Lord had his way such an exchange would never occur again. Black would be dead and Roy would be pulled off the fence and become a Death Eater.

"Father? Where is mother?"

Lucius was surprised, but quite glad that he didn't show it as he turned to look at the best thing in his life.

"Merry Christmas, Draco. And your mother shall be joining us at the restaurant. I needed to speak with you first."

That, and Bellatrix had been left in charge with the Dark Lord's disappearance. She didn't trust them at all, apparently Narcissa's mending of fences with Andromeda had essentially made her a blood-traitor in Bellatrix's eyes.

They were only able to go to the restaurant together because it would raise red flags if they didn't.

The Malfoys always went out to eat after picking up Draco from the station.

The Crabbes had agreed to have an early dinner at the restaurant so as to keep an eye on the Malfoys. At Bellatrix's rather deadly insistence.

Lucius looked over to see Norman Crabbe looking for his son. Hopefully Vincent Crabbe had taken the bait and eaten those puking pasties he'd been sent. Honestly, that boy was an idiot if he thought any girl would send him sweets. Luckily, the Crabbes were known for being loyal, not intelligent.

"Do you have your trunk?"

"Right here," Draco said, pointing to the dark green school trunk at his feet.

"Dobby," Lucius said.

Immediately the terrified little house elf popped into view. Lucius scowled, he hated the disgusting creatures, even if they were useful.

"Yes, master?"

"Take Draco's trunk to the house and get it unpacked. Also," he added as an afterthought, "I forbid you from listening to anyone without Malfoy blood - aside from Narcissa. The same goes for the other elves."

The thought of Bellatrix being forced to make her own tea made him want to snicker like a schoolboy. Salazar, he hated that woman.

"Yes, master," the elf said with a bow so low his nose touched the floor. After that he popped out, taking the trunk with him.

"Father, why did-"

"Later, Draco, we need to depart immediately."

Draco frowned, but reached out to take the arm that Lucius extended to him.

A moment later they were in a deserted forest. One of the places Lucius commonly used as an apparition spot to throw off aurors.

Draco looked around in confusion, but before he could say anything, Lucius began to speak.

"Listen, Draco, we don't have much time. I'm sure you know by now that I lied about being under the imperius?"

Draco audibly gulped, but nodded.

"That is true, but it is also true that I never had a choice. Not a real one. Now, I've spoken to you some about the Malfoy family magic, but I didn't plan to share this part until you were seventeen."

Now the boy looked frightened, "Then why are you telling me now? What's happened?"

"You know what happened. Your mother's chosen bride for you has been in the thick of it all. What you don't know is that our house has been occupied, hence our rushed conversation here."

His son grew deathly pale, "They-They're in our HOUSE?"

"Yes."

Draco gaped at him for a moment before saying a handful of words that tore Lucius apart.

"You can't be my father."

It took a moment for Lucius to gather enough air to speak. And by the time he had his son's eyes had turned as hard as the cursed silver blade Bellatrix carried next to her wand.

"Draco, please, you need to-"

"No! I won't!" Draco stomped his foot as he spoke, bringing back fond memories of him demanding more sweets during previous Christmases.

"You have no choice! And I don't have time for your childish antics! If you don't hear this, you could die!"

"You're lying!"

"No," Lucius said coldly, trying to get through to his son.

Draco's jaw clenched and he looked around the clearing, as if he could find an escape route.

Lucius actually felt quite proud. He never could have defied his father when he was Draco's age, he'd been too fearful of the man.

"You can't apparate yet. I know you're doing well in your Saturday classes, but you can only apparate to where you can see. We're not leaving until I talk. Even if it gets me a session under the cruciatus by your aunt."

"Bellatrix Lestrange is NOT my aunt," Draco bit out.

That told Lucius a lot. Quite a lot.

"Fine, she's not your aunt. But the truth stands that we shall not be leaving here until I speak."

Draco glared, but said nothing.

Lucius gave a sharp nod, "Alright, as you know, Malfoy magic tends to be about subtle management through any means necessary - typically potions and charms. We use this to protect what is ours and keep the family strong. What you don't know is the price we pay."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Lucius held up a hand, "No, let me finish. The price is that it does not matter how powerful we become as a family or as an individual we always crave to follow someone more powerful. It does not matter what kind of power. Sadly, I was introduced to the Dark Lord before I noticed your mother."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that my magic, the part that makes me a Malfoy, attached me to the first truly powerful person I admired. And, I was raised by my father to be an upstanding pureblood. Of course I admired the Dark Lord when I met him. My father admired him as well. It is virtually impossible for me to say no to him. Maybe if you or your mother were in danger I could, but that is not certain. I've looked and no Malfoy has broken the chain that tied them to their master. That is part of why Narcissa wanted you married to a witch that did not seal her magic. She hopes to eliminate the forced bond and all the misery it brings."

Draco's face had grown horrified the more Lucius had spoken, but, at a certain point it became thoughtful.

"Are you saying I need to admire them to form this bond?"

"Correct."

"But, I don't admire the Dark Lord. He disgusts me. And I'm not going to our home if he is there."

Lucius grimaced, "I'm afraid you have no choice."

Draco's eyes narrowed and his wand appeared in his hand. Lucius couldn't help but feel proud of his son.

"What, are you going to bind me and drag me there?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Draco, they have your mother. That's why only I met you at the station. Margery Crabbe is keeping an eye on her at the restaurant. We're only allowed to go to keep up appearances. I sent your friend – Vincent – puking pasties so I could slip away from his father."

Lucius could see the gears churning as Draco tried to think of a solution. He looked so much like his mother that it almost hurt to look at him.

When had Draco grown up?

"Can't we rescue her? Go in, wands drawn?"

He shuddered and shook his head, "No, I can't betray him like this – with forethought. Besides, I'm sure Margery is not the only one there. Bella will spare no effort when it comes to following the Dark Lord's orders."

"I don't believe you."

"Will you believe it when I tell you that if we don't go immediately your mother may die? I'm sure Norman has located and cured his son by now. Even he is not completely incompetent."

Draco stared at him intensely before looking down at the dead leaves under their feet. "Fine, but I refuse to take the mark."

"He won't ask until you are seventeen. Your mother will have figured out a solution by then." Lucius reached out and put his hand on Draco's shoulder. The boy tensed, but did not move away.

"Draco, I know we never talk about emotions, but I want you to know that I am a Malfoy. Family always comes first. Understand?"

Those silver eyes, so like his own, bored into him, judging him. Lucius tried to show every bit of love and pride he had for the boy that his love with Narcissa had created.

"Even against the chain you claim no Malfoy has ever broken? A chain you suspect will ensnare me, tying me to a man that thinks murdering and torturing people is an acceptable activity?"

Pain twisted in Lucius' chest and he whispered, "I don't know."

Before Draco could reply, they apparated out. Only a slight disturbance in the fallen leaves showed that anyone had been in the clearing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a time jump, but we all know that Hermione is stubborn and it will take something to get her to sit down and discuss what she doesn't want to. And I hope I explained the Malfoy family magic well enough here for ya'll to understand. Let me know if you have any questions about it.
> 
> And, again, this chapter is under 3k words, but the next one more than makes up for it. I'm also still creeping ahead in terms of chapters. Further ahead than I was before.
> 
> Enjoy!


	30. The Christmas Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco both separately deal with being home for the holidays in world readying itself for war. Draco meets a few interesting characters.

Hermione smiled and murmured a quiet "Thank you," as Kreacher set a bowl of beef stew in front of her.  To his credit, he didn't even glare at her anymore when she did that.

She'd figure out one day just how to break the house elves' dangerous dependency on a bond to a wizard or witch.

Just one more section on her long list of things to accomplish.  Right up there with the law allowing discrimination against werewolves and other magical beings.

"Did you two have any plans for the holidays?"  Padfoot asked as he grabbed a hunk of crusty bread and dipped it in his stew.

Harry shrugged, "Just homework, flying, and spending time with you."

"About that..."

Hermione looked up in concern as Padfoot trailed off, a note of uncertainty in his voice.

"Padfoot? What is it?" she asked.

He glanced at her then looked over at Harry, "We've strengthened the wards around all of our houses, but they only cover the house and small gardens.  There's nowhere for you to fly outside safely."

Hermione looked over at Harry to see his eyes darken in sadness, but he merely said, "I understand."  
While she had never enjoyed flying, she felt sorry for Harry, Ron and Ginny.  The three of them loved being in the air and she rather thought it was their method of stress relief.

"Alianore and Remus have magically enlarged the gymnasium at the academy, so you can fly there when no class is using it, but I know it's not the same."

Harry smiled a bit, "That's alright, Padfoot.  Safety comes first."

Padfoot looked at her, "What about you, Hermione?"

"Essentially the same as Harry, just change quidditch to private research."

He arched a brow at her, she envied him the muscle control it took to do that, "Are you going to share what you're researching?"

She shook her head, "Not yet.  Nothing is conclusive yet.  I do need to make a run to Flourish and Blotts if that can be arranged."

He smiled, "We're already planning a group outing to Diagon Alley next Tuesday."

"Perfect."

XXX

Draco jumped as a board creaked and whirled around, wand flying into his hand.

No one was there, the hallway was as empty as it usually was.

Perhaps a house elf had accidently made a noise while cleaning?  Or the old manor was settling?

He spun back around and continued on his way to his room, but did not put away his wand.

The manor had always made him feel happy, safe and loved.  Curse HIM for destroying that.  The knowledge that every spare room was occupied by Death Eaters made him want to run away and forget his parents.  They had gotten themselves into this by joining HIM during the first war.  They didn't have to drag him into it.

A breeze tickled the back of his neck and he once more spun around.

A wild-eyed, dark-maned witch stood about twenty feet away from him.

Her features were so similar to his mother's that he sharply inhaled in shock.

She grinned, revealing teeth that almost looked too sharp to be human in the flickering candlelight.

As he watched she slowly opened the door she was standing in front of.

"Goodnight, dear nephew," she practically hissed before stepping inside and shutting the door.

He stared at the shut door for a half a second before he turned and ran the rest of the way to his room.

XXX

Hermione bit her lip to stop from laughing st the shocked expression on Ron's face.  He obviously had not expected his pumpkin juice to explode in his face.

Apparently the newest potion was a success.

Harry and Ginny laughed out loud as Ron tried to use a napkin to mop up the orange juice now dripping off his face and into his porridge.

Ginny laughed so hard she began to cough, Hermione almost wanted to strangle the girl for not thinking, but where was the fun of that?

As soon as Ginny's lips touched her own juice it exploded in her face.

That made Ron laugh.

Harry stared at his own glass carefully before slowly touching the juice with his finger.  It immediately exploded upwards like a geyser.

Hermione did the same and watched with pride as her own juice exploded.

The best way to prank someone was to prank yourself.  Then you weren't easily identified.

"What in the-"

Mrs. Weasley's annoyed voice cut through the laughter as she surveyed the now juice covered kitchen table.

Instantly she stormed over to the fireplace, stuck some powder in and began berating Fred and George in their own apartment.

Hermione grinned, she had deliberately set their fireplace to allow Mrs. Weasley unlimited access when she'd stopped by yesterday.

If they were going to take the credit for all of the inventions - something she was perfectly fine with - they could also take the blame.

By the time Fred and George were properly scolded Hermione had used magic to clean up the mess and everyone had their laughter under control. 

Sadly, Mrs. Weasley was smart enough to throw out the entire pitcher of pumpkin juice before anyone else could become an unwitting test subject.

XXX

Draco silently slipped into the library and whispered, "Homo Revulus." 

No one was there.

He breathed a sigh of relief and moved towards the shelves, not putting his wand away.

Just in case.

Mother had told him that Greyback was due at the manor any day now and that was not someone Draco wanted to meet while helpless.

It took a bit of time to locate his father's hidden books, but he eventually found them.  Spells on dark magic and the few protections against them.

He planned to spend the holidays memorizing every single word in these books.  A very easy task as he'd so far managed to spend the last four days locked in his room with Dobby bringing him food.

He slipped the five books into his bag and moved towards the exit.

He froze when he heard the knob turn.

Panicking, he raised his wand and retreated into shadows as he put his back to a bookcase.

Surprisingly, a golden-haired man appeared in the doorway, his face was in shadow, but he was humming to himself.  His arms were laden with writing supplies, causing him to gently kick the door closed with his foot.

Draco silently watched as the man set everything down on a table in front of the massive granite fireplace.  He spent an inordinate amount of time arranging things in a very precise way.  Once finished he carefully sat down, sweeping his robe in an artful manner as he did so.

The movement was extremely familiar and Draco frowned as he tried to remember where he had seen it before.

He didn't get to think long as the man pulled out a glass ball, tapped it with his wand, and then set it to hover over the table.  The light cast from it illuminated his features.

"Professor Lockhart?"  Draco asked in surprise, before he could catch himself.

Lockhart jumped about a foot in the air and almost fell out of his chair.

"Oh!  Dear me, where did you come from?"

Draco smirked, apparently working for Him had not increased the fool's abilities.

"I was here the entire time."

"Ah, well then.  You look very familiar.  Do I know you?" Lockhart said as he squinted into the dark shadows Draco was standing in.

"I believe you were my Defense teacher during my second year.  Before you tried to obliviate the Hogwarts librarian.  You also happen to be staying in my house."

"Ah! Draco Malfoy!  Slytherin, always sitting with Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and Pansy Parkinson.  You enjoyed pantomiming in my classes if I remember correctly, though you pretended to hate it."

Draco gaped, "How-"

"My dear boy, I have not survived and succeeded as I have by failing to notice anything and everything about people.  Granted, I overstepped myself and panicked about Madam Pince.  She is a terrifying woman."

"Point," Draco said without thinking.

Lockhart frowned, "Why do you say that?  Your mother did the same thing when she showed me to a room here."

She had?  Just what was his mother doing?  There was no way playing that game had become a habit for her, like it had for him.  Granted, he didn't have a coin, so it only worked when he was around Lovegood, a Weasley, Potter, or Hermione.

"It's nothing, just something I've picked up by accident as Pansy has started hanging out with my cousin."

"If that is so, perhaps you can explain it to me in more detail when I am not quite so busy," he gestured to the piles of parchment laid out in front of him.

Draco grew curious and approached, "What are you doing?"

"The Dark Lord determined that while I am fairly useless at all spells except for obliviate, he knows I am quite talented at writing and public relations.  Currently, as I intend to keep on breathing as long as I can, I am writing his biography."

Draco's brows shot up, "His biography?  Is it real?"

"Well," Lockhart said with a brilliant, if slightly mischievous grin, "it's as real as any of my other books."

XXX

Hermione picked up her quill and wrote:

\-- _Forge, do you still have my book on signatures?  The one I leant you over the summer?_

While she waited for a reply she picked her notes back up and read over what she had put together so far.  There had to be some sort of magical link between Harry and Voldemort.  A link established before Harry's blood was used to create a new body for the evil git.  She just needed to discover the link and eliminate it.  

\-- _Hey, Phoenix, I do.  Want me to hand it over to Prongslet tonight?  I heard he'll be flying with King and Ginger while the rest of us are in the meeting._

She grimaced.  Stupid Order of the Phoenix meeting.  She was sure they were boring, but her desire to know everything meant that she wished she could be at one.  Sadly, despite her being of age Padfoot had decreed she could not join until things grew dire or she graduated from Hogwarts.

At least he made sure to tell Harry and her anything that related to them.

\-- _Yes, please.  Thank you._

\-- _No problem.  See you on Christmas Eve.  Oh, and Gred says you're forbidden from entering our apartment anymore._

She giggled, as if that would stop her from messing with his floo settings.  She'd just have to be sneakier about it.  Maybe she’d ‘borrow’ Harry’s cloak.

\-- _If you say so._

\-- _We do!_

She rolled her eyes at the size of the exclamation mark.  They did not appreciate their mother nearly enough.  Why, everyone knew her scoldings came from the heart.  Plus, they built character.

She closed her communication notebook and started to go back over her notes.

She would figure this out.  Even if she had to sneak into Knockturn Alley to find the correct books.

XXX

"Here, what do you think of this?"

Draco took the parchment from Lockhart and began to read:

**Upon the discovery of her unwanted pregnancy, Merope Gaunt went to her dear father for assistance.  When he learned just what the dastardly muggle had done to his sweet, innocent daughter he flew into a towering rage and stormed the muggle home, wand out.  His son, Morfin Gaunt joined him as they gained justice for their beloved family member.**

**Unfortunately, when the Ministry found out they took the side of the brutish muggle. The Gaunts were taken off to Azkaban and Merope was left all alone.**

**Heavily pregnant and badly weakened from her ordeal, she sought help in Wizarding London.  There she was spit upon and cheated out of what few things left to her.**

**Cursing those that had done this to her she tried to apparate home, but in her injured state she made a mistake.**

**Badly splinched she found herself on a muggle street.  Out of her mind with pain and going into labor she knew another apparation would kill her unborn son.**

**She crawled to a nearby doorway, there she pounded and screamed until an idiotic muggle woman opened the door.  She was just in time to witness the birth and hear Merope Gaunt's last words.**

**"Bless my father, Marvolo, for killing Tom Riddle."**

**Left with a newborn babe and a dead mother the woman did what any moronic muggle lacking in imagination would do.**

**She sent the babe to an orphanage and informed them that his mother had named him in her last breath.**

**What name?**

**Why, Tom Marvolo Riddle.**

**Or, as you know him, Lord Voldemort.**

Draco's eyebrows were practically one with his hairline as he finished reading.

"How much of this is verified fact?"

"Oh..." Lockhart thought for a moment, "the names?  And her brother and father did go to Azkaban.  Just for different reasons.  And at different times.

“Does he really expect no one to dig up the truth?”

Lockhart flashed him a smile, “My dear boy, the winning side only speaks the truth.  Did you not know that?  And, if this ever becomes published it will be accepted as truth.  Mark my words.”

“If it’s published?  Don’t you want Him to win?”

Lockhart made a tutting noise, “You really must become better at reading people if you mean to succeed in life.  And the Dark Lord saw into my mind, he knows this, so do not think I am telling you a great secret.  I don’t really care who wins in this war.  As long as I am alive at the end of it.  After all, either I am the great man who wrote the biography of our great leader - perhaps even in charge of public relations – or I am a hapless writer that fearfully did as I was told to avoid dying like many of the poor people in my prison wing.  After all, it is quite well-known by now that I am only good at obliviating people.”

Draco shook his head in disbelief, “You are a piece of work.”

“Here, take a seat,” Lockhart gestured at one of the other chairs at the table.

Draco eyed the chair for a moment, hesitant to sit and let his guard down.  He did not trust Lockhart as far as he could throw the man.  And he doubted he could throw him far, he’d somehow managed to actually gain weight while in Azkaban.

Likely from diehard fangirls sending him baked goods.

“Here, I can see you do not trust me, take my wand.”

Draco eyed the piece of wood like it was a snake, but reached out and took it anyway.  He grimaced as soon as it touched his hand.  It feel almost oily.

“Ah, yes, using one kind of spell too often does tend to warp a wand.  Now, will you sit?  I feel like I must impart some wisdom to you.”

“Wisdom?” Draco asked as he hesitantly sat down.

“Indeed.  I was a Ravenclaw you know.  I live and breathe wisdom.  It just so happens that often my wisdom falls on ears that are unready for such things.  Take Harry Potter, his inability to listen to me on managing fame pushed him into such a position that the Ministry and Daily Prophet were able to convince people that he is quite unwell in the head.”

“Potter isn’t insane,” Draco bit out, anger bubbling up inside of him.

“Oh, of course not!  It is just that he, with the help of his guardian, stayed so far out of the public eye that the public did not know him.  If the public does not feel like they know you then it shall be easy for them to turn against you.  Why, even now I have some witches so convinced that I am a pleasant and affable man that they wrote daily letters to the Ministry asking for me to be released from my unjust imprisonment.”

A part of Draco was revolted at the buffoon’s words, but he couldn’t stop himself from being impressed all the same.

“Is that how you managed to spend three and a half years in Azkaban without losing an ounce?”

“Of course.  The wizard in charge of my prison wing is a huge fan of mine.  Plus, he never liked Madam Pince.  Now, where I’m going with this is that public image is half the battle.  Your public image with the Death Eaters is rather good.  You’re a Slytherin and a pureblood.  Your father is a loyal Death Eater, one of the best.  Your mother is a loving and loyal wife.  You have an aunt who is considered to be one of His most loyal followers.  You, my boy, are sitting pretty.”

“Your point?”

Lockhart flashed him the smile that had appeared on every single one of his books.

“My point is that, if you want to keep on sitting pretty, you’ll denounce the rest of your family as fast as you can.”

“The rest?” Draco asked, even though he knew exactly who the Dark Lord was referencing.

“Why, your aunt: Andromeda Black, your cousins: Sirius Black, Nymphadora Tonks, and, of course,” he paused for dramatic effect, “Hermione Black.”

XXX

Draco glared at the plate in front of him, as if the veal piccata had done something to anger him.  He refused to look at the man sitting across from him.

Absolutely refused.

In fact, he might just dance with joy if one of Hagrid’s horrific blast-ended skrewts appeared on that monster’s lap.

He was the reason the Dark Lord was back.  He was also the reason that Hermione had almost died.  Draco had overheard him lamenting the fact to Theo’s dad that the ‘Black Brat’ had managed to survive.  Especially as her articles were beginning to enrage the Dark Lord.

Barty Crouch Junior could go burn in hell.

A large silver platter hovered along the outside of his vision before settling in front of his mother.  She delicately took another piece of veal even as he was choking down a bite.

How could she eat?  He’d barely been managing to eat when hidden in his own room.  It was utterly impossible now; seated at the massive dining room table with every nasty inhabitant of Malfoy Manor.

He caught a flash of gold and watched as Lockhart – far, far down the table – threw his head back and laughed at something Rita Skeeter said. 

His fists clenched as rage threatened to overcome him.  That woman!  In his house!  He wanted to squish her like the nasty bug she was.  It didn’t surprise him to see her getting along with Lockhart.

After their ‘discussion’ in the library earlier Draco had stormed out, only to be stopped by his mother before being forced to socialize with Greg, Vince, and Theo.  He’d been unable to sneak off to his room and stash the books from the library as apparently the Dark Lord was expected after dinner. 

And he wanted to meet the sons of his most loyal followers.

That thought turned the small bit of veal in his mouth to ash.  He felt like the disillusioned bag over his shoulder was pressing down on his chest, smothering him, but he dare not adjust it.  If his parents knew he was reading those books, no matter the purpose…

“Ah, I see I am early.  Or, perhaps, you are just disobedient,” a cold voice hissed.  The sound sent shivers of fear down Draco’s spine as he looked up.

There, standing in the doorway was the most pathetic excuse for a human being he had ever seen.  Blood red eyes blazed out of a face that more closely resembled a snake than a humans.  Bone white skin appeared to be almost blinding over robes so dark as to put his own Hogwarts robes to shame.

Lord Voldemort.

The source of all his misery.

Those cold eyes scanned the room and Draco looked down in apparent shame and modesty before they reached him.

There was no way he was letting that man in his mind.

He knew occlumancy, thanks to Professor Roux, but he didn’t trust his abilities enough to put them to the ultimate test.

His father stood up, “We are finished, my lord.  We were merely awaiting your presence.”

The Dark Lord silently swept across the room until he stood at the head of the table, only a few spots away from Draco.  He gave a wave of his wand and an ornate throne appeared.  

He sat and looked around the table, Draco made sure to avoid his eyes.  But he couldn’t help but shudder as he watched a great snake make its way up the throne until a large part of its bulk was draped – almost lovingly – around the Dark Lord.

“I believe I see new faces, are any of them seventeen yet?”

Mr. Nott spoke and Draco felt Theo stiffen beside him, “My boy, Theodore, will be seventeen in February.”

“My lord, Gregory will be seventeen in April, and he is eager to take the mark.”  To Draco, his old friend looked anything but eager.  He looked terrified.

“Draco will be seventeen at the beginning of June, my lord,” he heard his own father say.  Draco’s blood ran cold at the thought of his seventeenth birthday.

He wasn’t coming home.  He already knew that.  It didn’t matter what happened, he wasn’t becoming a murderer.  Or a torturer of little children.

“Vincent is already seventeen, my lord,” Mr. Crabbe said.

The Dark Lord’s mouth twisted into something that was likely meant to be a smile.

“Ah, good, Vincent, come here,” he pointed to a spot next to his throne.

Draco watched in mute horror as one of his oldest friends walked over to the Dark Lord. 

What followed would haunt his nightmares for weeks.

The Dark Lord locked eyes with Vince and his friend screamed and fell to his knees.  Crouch jumped to his feet and ran over.  He pulled back the sleeve of Vince’s left arm.  The Dark Lord raised his wand and hissed something before pressing it to Vince’s flesh.

The screaming grew worse.

And all Draco could do was sit there and watch.

He felt pain and looked down to see that his hands had curled into fists and his nails had cut into his skin.

Blood leaked from a few of the cuts and his mind was thrown back to St. Mungos.  Hermione had hurt herself because of these people.  She’d carved up the few parts of her skin that his aunt hadn’t.

And now he was doing it too.

“Draco Malfoy.”

He started and looked up, realizing the screaming had stopped.

“Yes, my lord?” he managed to say, despite the sudden lack of air in his lungs.

“I saw things - in your friend here - disturbing things.  I saw that you worked with Potter and his nasty little mudblood sister.”

Draco had to bite his lip to stop himself from yelling out that Hermione was NOT a mudblood.  His vow twinged, but didn’t break.  It was clever enough to not trigger on that.

“It-it was convenient, my lord,” he got out.

“I don’t think so.  In fact, I believe you need to prove your loyalty.  Right now.”

“My lord, please, he’s too young.  He’s only sixteen.”

Father’s words seemed like they came from far away.  Blood was rushing through Draco’s ears and his breath was coming fast.  He felt his wand digging into his wrist, ready to jump into his hand with the movement Professor Roux had taught him.

“Lucius, he is old enough.  I was doing much more than he at the age of sixteen.  Draco, come here.”

He felt his mother stiffen next to him, but Draco paid her no heed.  Here he was, once again faced with a choice.  Last time he had taken the coward’s way out.

He had refused to help Hermione.

He’d let her go off on her own.  She’d almost died because of him.  Because he was afraid of what might happen to himself.

But now he knew what would happen if he followed this snake-man. 

His father was broken. 

Chained to a man that he had once admired.  A man that had taken his home and turned it into a place it was never meant to be.

His mother…

Draco didn’t know what to think of her.  Potter’s words from last spring echoed in his ears, but he had trouble believing it.  Especially when his mother sat there so passively.

Potter’s words from a month ago rang in his head, _“I thought you had changed.”_

Had he changed?  Could he do nothing and allow himself to be branded like cattle?  Become a murderer?  A torturer? 

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe he could escape if he refused.  He couldn’t fight off all the Death Eaters in the room.  He didn’t even think Potter or Hermione could do that.

But, he knew he would rather die than become like those around him.  Something inside of him roared in agreement.  And he knew he could never follow the same path as his father.

It was inconceivable.

Carefully he stood up, watching as every pair of eyes in the room followed his smallest movements.  His head turned to the left and his eyes met Theo’s.

He was surprised at what he saw there.  And that was likely the only reason he said what he did.

“Theo, what happens to apples on a hill?”

The entire room seemed to tense at that question, but Theo smiled, “They roll.”

Draco looked back at the Dark- No, he would never be one of his minions.  He looked at Lord Voldemort, but was careful not to meet the monster’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I must refuse your grand offer.  You see, I’ve just never fancied being branded like a cow.”

Lord Voldemort’s face grew flabbergasted for a moment, but it quickly smoothed out into an expression of scorn.

“I see.  Well, if you don’t want to be branded like one, you can die like one.  _Avada Kedavra_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an apology for that very, very terrible cliffhanger I am posting a very happy and cheerful little Halloween two-shot (it started as a one-shot, but got a bit too complex, so I'll get the second half up in a day or so). It's called 'Dance With Me' and is 99% fluff imo. I wrote it because the next several chapters of BB are rather intense and I desperately needed to write something in a different tone.
> 
> But, in this chapter, what Lockhart is doing and what he wrote was inspired by that "lovely" communist country just north of me and the ridiculous lies they pass as truth.  
> Enjoy!


	31. Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Malfoy family deals with Draco's refusal to accept the dark mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Death of a named character, and some descriptions similar to what was in chapter one. Meaning possible triggers due to violence.
> 
> There are four reasons you are getting two chapters in a row:   
> (1) I feel bad about the terrible cliffhanger.   
> (2) More reviews in the last 24 hours on Ch. 30 than any other chapter, most very sadly lamenting the wait until the next chapter. Quite a few from people that have never left reviews before, as well as my regular reviewers :)   
> (3) I have the next chapter fully written and edited and I missed a week back in Aug due to my grandmother and everyone here was lovely and understanding about that.   
> (4) One of my favorite authors - ShayaLonnie - posted two chapters in a row this week and it just made everything better. So why not pass that wonderful feeling on?

For half a heartbeat relief pooled in Narcissa’s stomach as Draco refused to take the Dark Mark.

It had worked.

It had bloody well worked.

He didn’t admire the Dark Lord.  He wouldn’t chain himself to a man that would only bring him misery, heartbreak, and likely death.

Too bad she hadn’t expected the marking to occur this early, though she had at least been semi-prepared for it.  Hence her order to Dobby about the serving platter and its placement on the table.

Once those thoughts had flitted through her mind, she burst into action.  The Dark Lord was speaking, but she paid him no mind, she knew what spell he was going to cast.  Not that it truly mattered, not with goblin-forged items.

She leapt forwards, she could feel Draco and Lucius reaching out, trying to stop her, but she was faster.  She had to be faster if this was going to work.

Her hand grabbed the veal covered platter and yanked it up. Pieces of meat flew everywhere, she stored the memory of a piece hitting Bellatrix in the middle of her forehead.  Andy would love to see that bit.

She did it.

Green light crashed into the silver platter and bounced off again.

She almost shouted for joy when she saw she’d gotten the angle right.  Crouch dropped to the ground, as dead as he had claimed to be over a decade ago.   It wasn’t as satisfying as torturing him to death, but it would work.  He wouldn’t harm anyone else that belonged to her ever again.

Chaos erupted and spells began flying everywhere.  She flipped the platter and pressed the small lever she’d found on it years ago.  Instantly the handles moved and changed.  She slipped her left arm through them, wearing the platter like the shield it was made to be over a thousand years before.

Nothing lasted quite like goblin-forged items.

She felt a surge of relief as she realized that Lucius stood beside her, casting spells at his previous cohorts.

Apparently love was strong enough to break chains.

She kept backing up with Lucius beside her.  She could hear Draco and his classmate, Theodore, casting spells not far behind her.  She couldn’t look, but she knew they just had to go another few feet and they would be out.  She could cast a few locking charms on the door, give them enough time to reach the floo in the drawing room.

Almost there.

It would work.

It had to work.

A scream erupted next to her and she saw Lucius go down, his skin was bubbling and steam was coming out of every orifice.

She froze as it took all of her willpower to stamp down the Black bloodlust that threatened to consume her.  Lucius was HERS.  How DARE they kill him?  She'd given her heart and years of her life for this man.  She'd been prepared for him to be unable to fight free.  Been prepared to misplace or lock him up until Voldemort died.

She hadn't been prepared for him to die.  Couldn't even imagine a world without him in it.

She blocked one spell and let her eyes scan the crowd of death eaters around her dining room table.  Many of them were still staring in confused shock, not quite able to grasp what was occurring.  But there was one exception - Bella.

Her bitch of a sister was laughing as she watched Lucius' body grow still.

For just a second Narcissa gave in to the desire for revenge.  She fired a nasty hair-strangling curse and then cursed as Bella jumped out of the way at the last moment.

And that moment of weakness was all it took for her to miss blocking a spell.

Draco screamed behind her, but she couldn’t turn to look, she raised the shield and blocked a killing curse.  She sent a silent prayer to whatever deity was watching that Draco was hit with nothing life threatening.

Out.

They had to get out NOW.

They couldn’t apparate.  No one could apparate into or out of the manor.  Not even family.  Only a-

She was a bloody idiot.

If she had only-

No, no time for that.

“DOBBY!”

The house elf appeared, he looked terrified, but she noticed that spells just bounced off of a shield he had erected around himself.

“Yes, mistress?”

“Get the boys out of here!  Black Cottage!  Now!  Then-then guard him!  Understand?  Don’t let ANYONE hurt Draco!”

The elf’s eyes widened but he nodded, quickly, his ears flapping.  She moved and blocked a killing curse that had been heading straight for Theo.  Shot from his own father’s wand if she wasn’t mistaken.

“NOW!” she screamed at Dobby.

He moved faster than she thought any creature could move.

She heard her sister let out of a cry of frustration as a loud pop signaled the disappearance of Draco and his classmate.

Narcissa raised her shield and wand as she moved into a fighting stance.  She spared a brief glance at Lucius and had to stamp down the immediate urge to cry. 

He’d known the risks.  They both had.

But she knew he’d be glad Draco was safe.

After all, Draco was the best thing to ever happen to either of them.

“Do you honestly believe you can win against us all?” the cold voice of the Dark Lord asked.

She refused to answer him.  She didn’t plan to win. 

She planned to survive.

And then she would get her revenge.

XXX

Lucius' heart stopped as soon as he heard Draco refuse to take the mark.

He should have known.  Draco had told him, but Lucuis had made him come anyways.  

He'd failed.  He'd failed as a patriarch, a father, and a husband.

Green light was shooting from the Dark Lord's wand and Lucius gasped in shock as he watched his wife leap between the spell and their son.  He reached out, trying to stop here, part of him realizing that Draco's movements were mirroring his own.

Something in his brain clicked as soon as Narcissa raised the platter, the one he knew she loved to set out every time they had visitors.

She'd planned this.  Or, she had at least suspected what might happen.

He felt his love for her well up inside of him, making it hard to breath.

He watched as, in slow motion, Rodolphus pointed his wand at Draco, sending a flash of bright red light.  Too red to be a stunner.

Something snapped inside of him.

He roared and yanked out his wand.  The spell came naturally, he'd long since mastered many basic spells without words.

The red light hit the shield and exploded into pieces.  

He moved as one with his wife, following her lead, helping move Draco and his classmate behind them.

Spells flew all around.  Lucius dodged any killing curse Narcissa did not block with her shield.  Everything else hit his shield.

Until something didn't.

He saw it happening.

Bellatrix had always been fast with her wand.  He easily blocked her first spell, but the second one hit the same spot on his shield.  He felt the spell begin to weaken.

He could do nothing as the third spell hit the shield mere seconds after the second.

It broke through.

He screamed as his blood boiled away.  For half a moment his heart pumped vacuum, it was the worst pain imaginable and then, mercifully, it was over.

Everything was over.

XXX

Draco froze as he watched his father go down screaming in pain.  Steam rose from his body, a pale pink that left no doubt to what liquid it had originated from.

A moment later what felt like knives sliced into his legs, he fell, screaming as blood began pouring from his wounds.

So much blood.

His blood.

He felt himself grow faint but hung on.  Theo knelt beside him, "Draco!"

Draco tried to smile and make a joke, but all that came out was a pained sob.

He almost retched when a moment later Dobby grabbed his wrist and popped them away.

Draco tried to yell out.  His mother!  She was still there!  Nothing but pained moans came from his throat.  Moans that were ignored.

He heard shouting and then a moment later a familiar face appeared before his.

Hermione.

Then she was gone and someone was yanking off his trousers.  He screamed as his wounds were bumped.

When he stopped screaming another face loomed over him.

Snape.

He had his wand out and was muttering.

Instantly something cold poured over Draco's legs and he felt the pain lessen.

He heard Hermione say something and, his last thought before blessed darkness took him was that he was lucky to have her in his life.

XXX

Hermione turned to the next page of her book and nibbled on her bottom lip.  She wished the author would get to the point.  All he kept saying was something about the most foulest of creations.  Why wouldn't he just SAY what was so foul?

She reached out to pick up her teacup and took a gentle sip.  The house was so quiet.  She knew Kreacher was here with her, but that did nothing to make the house feel loud.

She took another sip and then shouted as three figures appeared on the rug in front of the fireplace.  Her tea spilled all over the book, but she didn't even notice.

Instantly Kreacher was there.  Even faster then she pulled out her wand.

"Black!  Help!"

She realized with surprise that one of the three beings was Theodore Nott.

"Please!  It's Draco!  I can't stop the bleeding!"

That made her spring into action.  She was on her feet and rushing over even as she shouted at Kreacher.

"Go to the Mauarader's Academy!  Get anyone that can stop the bleeding, NOW!"

She almost gagged when she got Draco's trousers off.  His legs and hips were covered in long, shallow cuts.  Blood stull poured from them, but it appeared to be slowing.  Likely as he was running out of blood.

She jumped up and raced over to Padfoot's desk, where she yanked out the bottom drawer and began pawing through his supply of potions.  She grabbed a blood replenishing potion and ran back to Draco.

She held it to his mouth and said, "Drink."

Miraculously, he did so.

Just as the blood was once again picking up speed Kreacher reappeared.  Snape and Whistledown were with him.

Hermione stumbled backwards out of their way.  As she moved she bumped into Theo.  He grabbed her shoulders to stop her from falling.

"What happened?" she heard herself ask as she watched whatever spell Snape was uttering close Draco's wounds.

Whistledown was currently digging through Padfoot's potions, pulling out quite a few that Hermione didn't recognize.  Once again she cursed her lack of knowledge in healing.  At least she’d learn most of the associated potions next year, but that was no use now.

"Draco refused to take the mark."

Her heart did a double thump.

"He refused?"

"Yes."

"Where are his parents?"

"Lucius Malfoy is dead.  Narcissa Malfoy...I don't know.  She sent us away and stayed behind, fighting."

A million thoughts and memories moved through Hermione's brain as she tried to decided what to do.

In the end, it was an easy decision; the rage she felt bubbling under the surface helped make it so.

They’d hurt Draco, she’d sworn to treat him like family.  That meant Narcissa was family, as she knew Draco loved his mother.

And no one, absolutely no one, was going to get away with hurting her family.

XXX

Harry nearly fell out of the air when his pocket began to burn.  He dropped the quaffle and quickly followed it to the ground.  Ginny and Ron were right behind him.

As soon as all three of them landed they pulled out their coins.  Fear stabbed at Harry's heart when he saw the short message: Black Kitchen NOW!

He took off running for the academy's lobby.  Ron and Ginny were right behind him.  As the sprinted past the classroom being used for the Order meeting Fred and George slipped out and joined them.

Less than two minutes later all five of them were piling out of the floo and into the kitchen of the Black Cottage with wands drawn.

They found Neville already there, and a very irate Pansy next to him.  Hermione was pacing back and forth, muttering to herself - always a bad sign in Harry's book.

Surprisingly, Theodore Nott was seated at the table.  He looked very pale and withdrawn, but there was a determined set to his shoulders.

Luna popped from the fireplace before Harry could even ask what was going on.

"I assume you don't plan to rely on the Order?"  Fred asked.

"Of course she isn't.  They'll take five hours just to decide whether to stage a rescue or not.  They were still arguing about whether to come heal Draco Malfoy or not when we left.  Fools didn’t even realize Snape had taken matters into his own hands," George said.

"Point," Fred said.

Hermione stopped and turned to them, "Lucius Malfoy is dead, Draco was badly injured, and Narcissa is currently alone in the Malfoy dining room with several dozen Death Eaters and nothing but a wand, her wits, and a thousand year old shield I am very glad I did not request as a birthday gift over three years ago."

“So, you want us to risk our lives by entering a building with several dozen Death Eaters, possibly including You-Know-Who, all to rescue one person?  With the hope that the Order will learn what we’re doing and come reinforce us?” Ron asked.

Hermione glared at him, “You don’t have to come along.  But she’s family and I’m going.  I won’t let Draco lose both of his parents in the same night if I can help it.”

Harry nodded in agreement, “Ron, if you don’t want-“

Ron cut him off sharply, “Shove it you two.  I’m not arguing, just clarifying.  We all need to perfectly understand what we’re getting into.  Now,” he said calmly, looking at everyone, “how do we get to Malfoy Manor?"

"Kreacher," Hermione said firmly.

Instantly the old elf popped into the room.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Did you check on Narcissa Malfoy née Black?"

The elf bobbed his head, "Mistress Malfoy be fighting.  I could not enter the room."

"I figured as much.  After Dobby got Draco and Theo out they must have warded against house elves.  But you could enter the sitting room?"

The elf nodded.

"Very well, everyone, fighting clothes.  One minute and Kreacher will pop us in groups to the sitting room.  Then he's going to inform the Order just where we've gone.  Speak now if you don’t want to join."

She looked around the room, but no one spoke, so she nodded and began buttoning up her outer robe.

Harry was in his flying robes, and they worked well for fighting so he took a moment to do some of the stretches Tonks had taught him.

He stopped when Fred pulled open a drawstring bag and began handing out burgundy colored hats.

"Shield hats," he explained, "Not as good as the real spell, but an extra layer of protection."

Hermione set one her head and then looked around at them all, "Ready?"

Nine heads nodded back, including Harry's.

"Alright, let's go get Narcissa and force the Order to stop talking and start acting."

George opened his mouth to likely say something smart, but Fred elbowed him and he closed it again.

"Kreacher, please take us in, as many as possible," Hermione said politely.

Kreacher nodded and grabbed her arm, along with Nott's. They disappeared, a moment later and Kreacher was back.  He grabbed Fred and George, then Neville and Pansy.  Next went Luna and Ginny.

As soon as Kreacher returned once more he grabbed Ron and Harry's arms, but before they could disappear the kitchen door opened to reveal their potion's professor.

Harry offered him a quick salute just as they vanished.

Maybe Kreacher wouldn't need to inform the Order after all.  That is, if Snape was really on their side.

XXX

The entire meeting had become pandemonium.  Half of the members were shouting and arguing about the fact that "Young Master Malfoy" was terribly injured and at the home of Harry Potter.  Mad-Eye was the largest protestor against sending help.  He just KNEW it had to be a trap.

Severus rolled his eyes at the idea, even as he stalked across the room, grabbed the only other competent potioneer in the room, and then honed in on Kreacher.

"Take us to Draco. Now."

The smart elf didn't argue.

As soon as Severus saw Draco he got to work.  It had been years since he had used this spell, but it still came readily to his tongue.

Sometimes he wondered just what he was doing with his life.  When had he gone from creating dark spells to curing them?

He knew he saw part of himself in the Malfoy boy: a Slytherin, trapped in a terrible situation, and with a mysterious and unexplainable interest in a muggleborn.  And Mr. Malfoy could deny it all he wanted, but Severus knew what denial looked like.

A muggleborn that was so much like his old friend it hurt to watch her hand go up in class.  Even if she hadn't been Sirius Black's adopted daughter he likely would have treated her abominably.

Too many memories.

And now he knew just how much it was in his interest to keep her alive, because she would die to keep Harry alive.  Plus, she was also Lily’s blood.  Close enough family to keep the blood wards protecting Harry active.

The only thing he had left in his life was keeping Harry alive.

If Harry was alive, then Lily still lived on.

And, maybe, if he kept going with that Weasley girl there would one day be another red-haired, green-eyed Lily walking the halls of Hogwarts.  Driving teachers to distraction and lecturing students until they became better people.

Severus planned to stop teaching long before that happened.  He didn't think he could survive another student that reminded him of her and all of his failures.

With that thought the last cut sealed itself. 

He sat back on his heels and watched Whistledown pour potions down the unconscious boy's throat.

A mousy woman, but one of the few people he knew in the Order that had actually come close to his score in NEWTS level Potions.

He looked around the room and realized that the three humans were alone with a pathetic looking house elf who had a very determined air about him.

"Where did Mr. Nott and Miss Black go?" he asked.

The elf swallowed in fear but set his jaw determinedly.

Severus felt a reluctant sense of admiration for the sad creature.  Not many could stand up to his glares.

"Master Malfoy's friends be going to the kitchen."

Severus stood up and then paused, he looked down at the elf.

"Master Malfoy?  What about Lucius Malfoy?"

The elf gulped again.

"He be gone.  Master Draco be Master Malfoy now."

Severus felt a pang of sadness for his old classmate and compatriot.  Lucius hadn't been a good man, but Severus had always understood him.

"And Mrs. Malfoy?"

"In trouble.  Big trouble."

For an instant Severus felt relief, after all, she knew his secrets.  If she was dead only Albus would know.  But in that same instant he realized just where Hermione Black had gone.

That mysterious and unexplainable interest went both ways.  She was not going to let Draco's mother die.

He uttered a curse and hurried to the kitchen.

Luckily it was in a very logical spot for this size of a cottage.

He opened the door just in time to see Harry Potter salute him before Kreacher popped him and the youngest Weasley boy away.

Rage ran through Severus; was the boy determined to get himself killed?  And he would have thought Hermione Black was too sensible to run off into a manor full of Death Eaters with only a handful of wizards and witches.

He should have known better.  

No Gryffindor was sensible.

He stormed over to the fireplace, threw in some floo powder and shouted, "Marauder’s Academy!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who remembers the shield and caught it's reference last chapter?


	32. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue mission turns into a full-fledged battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Death of a named character, and violence.  
>  

 

Narcissa blew a strand of hair out of her face and did a quick side step to avoid one spell while she raised her left arm and blocked another with the shield.

She didn't know how much longer she could do this.

She'd almost made it out of the dining room when someone - likely the Dark Lord - had thrown up an invisible wall over the entrance.  She could break it down if she could focus on it, but that wasn't really an option when spells from almost two dozen wands kept flying at her.

And then there was that bloody snake.

She'd had to put her back to a wall to stop it from sneaking up on her.  She didn't know what it was, but she would bet her life it had a deadly poison in its fangs.  She ducked and felt bits of plaster hit the back of her neck.

Bloody hell, maybe she wouldn't survive this.  

Maybe she really wouldn't have to wait long to see Lucius again.  She was disappointed not to be able to get revenge, but at least Draco was safe and had strong enough ties to Hermione that there were now others that would do what they could to keep him alive.  Maybe they would even retroactively get revenge for her.

BANG!

She threw herself to the side as the wall behind her exploded.

The entire room grew quiet and no spells flew for a moment as everyone cranes their heads to see through the smoke and dust.

That was a mistake.

Narcissa let out an almost maniacal laugh as almost a dozen spells flew out of the hall. 

Each one hit their target.

She hurriedly rolled to her feet and began firing spells.  She wasn't going to waste time seeing the identity of her rescuers.  That could happen later.  When she was safe and back with her son.

XXX

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the expressions of shock and cries of dismay from the Death Eaters as ten stunners dropped just as many of their number.

It was an easy spell to block, but only if you saw it coming.

She moved forwards, a step behind Harry as she fired more spells.  She watched as Goyle screamed, giant, oozing boils covering his face.

A flash of silver caught her attention and she turned her head a bit to see a very haggard Narcissa Malfoy raise a gleaming silver shield to block a bright green spell.

Likely a killing curse.

She found her attention taken with the shield.  She'd seen it before.  It took a moment, but she remembered.

The pictures from her third year when Narcissa had offered her choice of ancient magical objects.

Hermione was very glad she hadn't taken the shield.  It was quite possibly the only reason Draco’s mother had survived by herself here in the time it took for Hermione and her friends to arrive.

Something tugged on her wand, but she managed to hold onto it.  She whirled around and saw her old Defense teacher - Gilderoy Lockhart - casting rather weak disarming spells in every direction.

He was earning quite a few glares from his own side.  Hermione used the distraction to cast a full body bind on Crabbe.  He landed on a chair so hard that it snapped under his weight.

She saw movement and noticed a gigantic snake weaving its way through the feet of the fighters.

It was heading right for Harry.

She saw red and leaped back into the fight, aiming an expulso at the thing.

She missed and the floor under the snake exploded, sending the nasty creature flying into the air where it became tangled in the chandelier.

"POTTER!" A high, cold voice hissed, cutting through the sound of spells firing and voices crying out spells.

A dark figure was striding towards Harry, wand drawn, Hermione tried to rush forwards, but was too far away.

Harry dropped screaming, his body wracked with pain.

Hermione felt it.  She wanted to scream too, but she stamped it down.

She looked around quickly, and then sent another explosion spell at the beautifully painted ceiling.  A small part of her winced at the destruction of something so priceless, but she’d do anything to try and keep Harry safe.  Screams erupted as the second floor of the manor came crashing down on the Death Eaters.

Instantly she felt Harry's pain end.

But, before the dust had cleared it started again.  She cast a bubble charm on her head and ran through the dust, homing in on Harry and his screams.

A heartbeat later she felt the air change.  She hadn't even noticed the Malfoy wards, but she did notice their absence.

Almost two dozen wizards and witches popped into the room, wands drawn.

A figure in bright purple, with a long silver beard appeared between Harry and Voldemort.  Effectively ending Harry's pain.

She had almost reached Harry when a voice spoke.  A voice she knew as well as her own.  After all, she'd heard it often enough in her nightmares.

"Hello, brat.  Time to finish what I started."

She turned and looked into the wild, insane eyes of her parents' murderer.

Instantly all thoughts of Harry disappeared as her magic rushed forwards, demanding revenge.  And, against her earlier promise, she let it take over.

Some things were worth losing control over.

XXX

Harry tried not to scream as pain wracked his body.  He could feel Hermione coming, he just had to hold on for one more minute.

He thrashed and felt his leg hit something sharp.  It cut through the pain from the spell, made him capable of opening his eyes.

He saw Voldemort standing over him, red eyes gleaming in triumph and then his view was blocked by robes of bright purple, covered in silver stars that danced before his eyes as the cruciatius spell was abruptly ended.

"Hello, Tom," Dumbledore said, his voice as pleasant as it ever was.

"Dumbledore," Voldemort spat, "here to rescue your little hero?  If only I had known cleaning house would bring you out.  I would have done it long ago."

"Tom, Tom, Tom, you really have that much faith in your abilities?"

Harry struggled to his feet, his muscles screamed at him, but he ignored them.  This wasn't the first time he'd been in pain.

Something warm trickled down his leg and he looked down to see a sharp piece of metal from the chandelier lying nearby, coated in his blood.

"I think, old man, that you overestimate yourself!"  A spell went flying from Voldemort's wand as he spoke.

Harry gasped as Dumbledore casually raised a broken piece of wood, blocking the spell.

He quickly sent something back, and Voldemort raised a quick spell.

A scream of rage washed through the room and Harry felt his link with Hermione blaze white hot.  He turned to look and saw Hermione engaged in a duel with someone that had to be Bellatrix Lestrange.  She looked too much like Aunt Andy to be anyone else.  He began to move towards her but stopped when his attention was brought back to the two wizards dueling in front of him.

"You are growing slow," Voldemort hissed as he easily dodged a spell.

"I think not."

Harry watched as Voldemort's eyes widened in shock as his feet went out from under him.

Dumbledore had transfigured the floor into ice.

"The problem, Tom, is that you are predictable."

Voldemort screamed in rage and looked at Harry as he struggled to his feet.

Harry's eyes locked with those blazing red ones and then his world once again erupted into pain.

Someone was digging through his mind, grabbing memories and yanking on them.  Dragging out every little moment of his life.

He screamed in rage and tried to push back, but his occlumency skills were no match.

He felt his mouth move and his voice came out, but he wasn't the one speaking.

"Freeze, old man.  Or the boy dies."

"Tom, you are making a mistake."

Distantly, as if through a long tunnel, Harry heard numerous cracks of apparition around them

"My only mistake was caused by underestimating the power of prophecy.  I will not make it again," Harry's mouth said.

"You are very blind, Tom, if you believe that is your only mistake."

"No, you are blind, old man."

Then, Harry saw it.  

No, he didn't see it.  He was it.  Purple robes flickered in front of his eyes as he slid along the ground.

He felt his jaws open wide and then he darted forwards, his fangs dug into soft flesh as his master urged him on.

NO!

Harry screamed internally and yanked at himself.  No!  That wasn't him.

For a moment, he floundered, lost in a place that was not a place.  He wasn't alone.  He knew that.  But he also knew he was the only real one there.  The others were too small and terribly twisted.  One of them was latched onto his leg, attempting to climb up it.  He screamed as he felt the nothingness around his not-self help the creature by pulling him down, trying to make him forever lost.

Like the sun among the clouds he saw a gold and red strand appear before his out-stretched not-hand.

He grabbed at it, pulling as he felt the not-place drag at him.  He reached out with his other not-hand and pulled harder.  The small, terribly twisted creature holding onto his leg cried out and tightened its grip.  Instantly he felt himself pulled backwards as the gold and red strand began to slip out of his grasp.

He shouted in frustration and fear as he began to kick his legs, attempting to force the nasty thing off of his not-leg.

The others were drawn by the commotion, they were coming towards him.  He began to kick harder and felt the creature began to lose its hold.  He redoubled his efforts and began to move his entire body around in sharp, jerking motions.  It was all he could do to hold onto the strand.

And then, with one mighty heave to the side, the creature went flying off.  It instantly latched onto another creature – the long skinny one.

Before he could see what they would do he turned his attention back to the strand and began climbing out of the dark not-place.

It felt like forever, and yet part of him knew it was no time at all before he was encased in warmth and back in his body.  Back in the ruined remains of the Malfoy dining room.

Screams and spells erupted all around him.  He saw Dumbledore standing frozen in shock as a massive snake slithered away from him and towards Voldemort.

"You are dead, old man.  Finished."

"The snake," the dying headmaster gasped.

Voldemort laughed, "Indeed. Nagini is a queen of snakes.  And I am the heir of Slytherin.  What she does, I do."

Dumbledore raised his wand towards Voldemort.  His entire body was shaking, but the hand held steady.  But, before a spell could emerge his knees gave out and the wand flew out of his hand.

Once Dumbledore was down Voldemort turned his attention to Harry.  

"I see, Potter, that you escaped your own mind.  Perhaps you are stronger than I expected.  But it is no matter, you are as dead as your precious Headmaster."

The world slowed down as Harry watched that pale hand aim a wand at him.  He tried to move, but his muscles were sluggish from the torture, all of the adrenaline gone from his system after being in that odd, not-place.

His breath caught and his eyes widened as green light began to emerge.

A million images flashed before him.  Padfoot, teaching him how to hold a broom.  Moony, telling him stories of his parents.  Hermione poking and prodding him, telling him that he would never be alone.  Ron declaring that there was no way he was going after the philosopher's stone alone. And, there, Ginny, coming from the sky like a fiery angel.  Rescuing him when he thought he was done for.

He thought of the pain rescuing him had brought on everyone.   On how it had almost killed Hermione.  On how Draco Malfoy had actually rescued her.

 It was his fault he'd been captured by Crouch.  His fault Hermione had almost died.  

His fault Dumbledore had just died.  Harry had been too slow to escape Voldemort's spells.  Too slow to yank out of his mental grasp.

Panic and fear swept through his link with Hermione and he realized he had also left her facing Bellatrix alone.  

Alone with the woman that haunted his sister's nightmares.

He dropped his wand and lowered his head.

Maybe, just maybe, everyone would be better off without him.

XXX

Hermione lost herself.  Spells flew from her wand as words flew from her mouth.  She laughed at the look of shock and dismay on Bellatrix's face.  She heard herself say, "I stopped you as a babe.  I'll kill you as an adult!"

She pushed forwards, driving her torturer away – cackling in delight as the witch fell backwards and dropped her wand.  

Hermione raised her wand and opened her mouth to utter a particularly nasty spell she'd found in her Black Tome.

Bellatrix scrambled at her waist, and, before Hermione could utter a word, a knife appeared.

Not just a knife.

The knife.

Hermione froze, her muscles locked up and she began to hyperventilate.

Now Bellatrix laughed as she scrambled to her feet.

Memories and nightmares flashed before Hermione's eyes as she found herself frozen. 

A part of her screamed out for help, but she was alone.

Panicking, she called up any memory she could.  There, a dragon came flying out of the darkness.  Its pale scales gleamed as fire flew from its mouth.  Part of her melted and she began throwing lines out, searching, crying desperately in need.

Hermione dropped to her knees and let out a sob as Bellatrix rose above her.  The knife clutched clearly in her elegant hand, her wand once more in the other.

She tried to scream, but no air came.  

She felt light-headed, locked out of her own body.

And then, in a single heartbeat, everything came back.

For an instant she saw Harry grab one of her thrown lines and then he was gone and it was only Bellatrix above her.  Bellatrix with murder and madness in her eyes.  Hermione felt instantly sick as she realized she had likely looked the same a moment before.

Her stomach heaved and before she could even blink she was being violently ill on Bellatrix's feet.

The woman shrieked and stumbled backwards, forgetting to cast a spell.  Hermione stamped down on her own physical misery and threw one of the only silent spells she could at the woman.

She didn't get a chance to see if the wand or knife left Bellatrix's hands.  Her stomach roiled and her throat contracted as she fell forwards, vomiting once more.

A shriek of terror filled her ears as she dry heaved, but her eyes were squeezed tight; her body ignoring her commands. 

By the time she got her body under control and looked up Bellatrix was gone, Narcissa was striding over.  Her wand out and her shield covered in soot, but looking completely undamaged from the number of spells that had hit it.

Gone was the perfectly dressed and coiffed woman Hermione had known for years.  In her place was someone that could be a reincarnation of Boudicca.  

She felt very grateful that this woman was on her side.

"Hermione, are you hurt?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, just-just flashbacks.  And, the Black magic, I lost control."

"Understandable.  It's hard to maintain control.  Now-"

She was cut off as a dozen aurors, led by Kingsley Shacklebolt, apparated into the dining room.

Hermione yanked herself to her feet and yelled, "NO!" as one auror pointed his wand at Narcissa.

He eyed her dubiously, but backed down and turned his attention to Crabbe Sr.

That was when the tide began to turn.

Several more Death Eaters followed Bellatrix and apparated out, though that idiot - Lockhart - kept throwing random and weak disarming spells everywhere.

Just as an actual wand flew his way she threw a stunning charm at him.  He collapsed in a tangle of limbs and she began to look for another target when shouts of shock and rage filled the ruined room.  

She turned and saw Albus Dumbledore, greatest wizard of all, and the only man Voldemort ever feared, fall unmoving to the ground.

And then she saw Harry.  Kneeling on the ground by Voldemort's feet.  Looking even worse than she had felt when she was in front of Bellatrix.

Panic filled her and she began to run, but she was too slow.  Too tired from her previous ordeal. She screamed as Voldemort's wand pointed downwards at Harry.  

And then she did something incredibly stupid.

She apparated.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's another cliffhanger. And I don't feel at all bad this time *cackles evilly* 
> 
> I have to say that I am utterly amazed by all the lovely people following and leaving reviews on this story. Thank you very much. I said it in the AN for my little two-shot - 'Dance With Me' - but I'll say it here as well. It's the reviews that get me to write in the evenings rather than read or go play Stardew Valley on steam. Seriously, I have 313 hours in that game... And there are actually three games with even more hours than that...
> 
> Enjoy!


	33. Night Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battled comes to a close.

Sirius felt cold as he saw the wand descend towards Harry.  But he did not freeze, he raised his own wand and began to cast the spell to place a wall between Harry and Voldemort.

That was all the distraction that was needed.

A massive man who appeared to be half wolf tore himself out of the rubble that had buried him, he roared as he leapt at Sirius, his hands curved into claws that only accented the sharp, jagged nails at the tip of each finger.

Sirius screamed as teeth dug into his shoulder and wolf-like claws tore at him.  He fell to the ground, sharp bits of rubble digging into his front as his back was ripped apart.

His world was filled with pain and blood as he tried to throw and kick his attacker off.  He could feel his body growing weak when the man's weight was abruptly yanked off, taking a chunk of his shoulder with him.

He screamed again and his vision grew hazy as he thrashed around.  The last thing he saw before blessed darkness took him was Voldemort screaming in rage as Harry disappeared.

XXX

Severus paced back and forth in the small Black Cottage library.  Emotions battled inside of him.

He hated this.

The Dark Lord had told him to do nothing to reveal his true allegiance, to stay out of any direct confrontations between the Order and Death Eaters.

And Dumbledore had agreed with it.

He hated feeling helpless, it brought up memories he preferred to ignore.

Draco lay silent and under the effects of a dreamless sleep potion in Potter's room upstairs.  Whistledown had helped him with the boy before running off to join the battle now raging at Malfoy Manor.

He glanced at the clock on the mantle and cursed.  It wasn't even ten.  How had an evening filled with an Order meeting and then, later, a pleasant nightcap with Minerva turned into this insanity?

Why couldn't Draco have taken the bloody mark?  Severus would have helped him get away later.  Obviously Draco had been spending too much time with idiotic Gryffindors.

A muffled shout rang through the silent cottage.  

Severus whipped out his wand and stalked out of the library.  The shout had not come from upstairs.

A door slammed open, banging against the wall and making Severus wince internally.  He hated loud noises, his father had always been noisy and clumsy at his worst moments.

"Snape! Help!"

The plea came as he rounded the corner and entered the small, cozy entry way.

In the door stood Harry Potter and Hermione Black.  They were covered in plaster dust and soot.  

Also, blood.

They were covered in blood.

"Please!" Potter cried, bringing Miss Black closer.  "She splinched herself.  Twice!"

Severus took two steps forward and without a word helped Potter lower Miss Black to the floor.

Then he got to work.  

He hadn't helped save her last summer just to let her die now.

He had always considered himself to be a very precise man; and he did not appreciate having his work undone.

At all.

XXX

Harry followed every order Snape directed at him without comment and with as little delay as his exhausted body would allow.

He still couldn't believe he was alive.  

One moment he'd closed his eyes and lowered his head, the next he was being grabbed and squeezed by the force of apparation.

And then there had been so much blood.  At first he had been sure that whomever had saved him was dead.  Until he'd heard her whisper his name and reach out to his mind.

They'd been right outside the front gates to the cottage.  He'd supported her inside, grateful now for the extra wards that had prevented flying at home.  He knew they would keep out anyone the blood wards didn’t.  At least long enough for them to get away.

He wanted to ask why Snape had been there, rather than fighting at Malfoy Manor, but he was too grateful to the potions professor.

"Stand back."

Harry jerked out of the way, being careful not to drop the potions he was carrying.

Snape used his wand to levitate Hermione up the stairs and into-

Harry frowned in confusion.  Why were they going in his bedroom?

"Sir, what-"

"Draco is in here already.  I prefer to keep my patients together.  Now," the coldness in Snape's voice sent a shiver down Harry's spine, "tell me what has occurred at Malfoy Manor that would send you two back here."

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it again as he watched Snape continue working on Hermione.  What did he say?  That their rescue mission had turned into a full-on battle?  That his own inexperience and confusion in the heat of his first battle had gotten Dumbledore killed?

How he'd seen no sign of any of his friends for too long to count?  That he didn't even know who was alive or dead?

"Well, Mr. Potter, who is winning?"

Harry weaved on his feet, suddenly feeling light-headed.  He looked at Draco and Hermione lying on his bed, wrapped up in bandages with a-

He frowned and tilted his head to the side.

He didn't recognize that house elf.

"Who are you?" he asked it, trying to put off answering Snape's question.

The elf's large eyes grew even bigger, "Mister Potter be talking to me?" 

Harry started to nod, but began to feel nauseous with the movement, so he instead said, "Yes."

"Dobby be honored Mister Potter be addressing him.  Mr. Potter is indeed a great wizard.  Indeed. I be Dobby, personal house elf for Master Malfoy." He gestured to the softly snoring Draco in Harry's spot on the bed.

Harry opened his mouth to say something inane, but was cut off by the sharp clearing of a throat.

Snape now had his arms crossed, with the fingers of one hand tapping in annoyance and his left eyebrow arched in such a way that made Harry wonder if Snape was somehow related to Aunt Andy.

"I don't know."

Snape's tone grew even frostier, "You don't know what?"

"Who is winning?  I-I was being attacked by Voldemort."

Snape gave an almost invisible shudder when Harry said the name, but did not interrupt.

"He was torturing me when Dumbledore appeared.  The two of them fought.  Dumbledore was winning when Voldemort entered my mind.  Something odd happened and Dumbledore was bitten by Voldemort's snake."

He stopped, hoping that was enough.

It was.

"Albus is dead."

Harry nodded and looked down.

There was a ruffle of fabric and then the sound of glass being set on wood.

"Mr. Potter."

Harry looked up.

"When the alarm sounds give Mr. Malfoy the shimmering blue potion. Ten minutes after that apply this cream," he held up a small tub of something, "to the wounds on Miss Black.  I'll be back."

He turned and whirled out of the room, his cloak billowing around him like enormous black wings.

Harry groaned when the door closed and slumped down his bed, being careful not to jostle Hermione or Malfoy.  Suddenly even more exhausted than he had been before.

He felt his eyes drifting closed, but he just had enough thought to whisper, "Dobby, please wake me when the alarm goes off."

"Yes, Mister Harry Potter, sir."

And - for the first time in months - he didn't dream of a strange corridor and shelves full of glass orbs.

XXX

Narcissa gasped in surprise, along with most of the people in the dining room, as Hermione appeared between the Dark Lord and Harry Potter.  Before she could draw a second breath the two of them were gone.

"No!  Don't you dare die Sirius!  You promised me dinner, damn-it!"

At her cousin's name she turned to find a red-haired woman crouched low over a man that looked as if he had been turned into raw meat.

Anger filled her and her eyes scanned the area around to find Fenrir Greyback, his left arm hanging limply at one side, facing down that Japanese wizard she had encountered at the Marauder’s Academy.  Mamoru Tachiki was his name, she remembered, before she let her anger guide her movements.

Draco and Hermione were safe, Lucius was dead, and she could see Andromeda and Nymohadora fighting not too far away.

She could allow herself a bit of freedom. And she had never approved of hurting children.  

Greyback bared his teeth in an expression that was far from a smile.

"Should have known never to trust a bitch," he snarled as his superior reflexes let him dodge one of Tachiki's spells.

She grit her teeth, "Tachiki, remember when we just met?"

He glanced at her, his face looking confused for a moment, and then recognition appeared.

"Ah, yes," he gasped as he dodged a chunk of rock Greyback threw.

"Do that, behind him," she stated.

"Done."

She pushed forwards, raising her shield to block any debris and fired spell after spell from her wand.  Most were simple things that even a first-year could do.  She was exhausted and she knew anything more complex was beyond her abilities at the moment.  But Greyback didn't know that and he kept dodging and laughing, taunting her.  

That was, until he hit the wall.

He had just leapt out of the way of an incoming trip-jinx when his entire meaty body slammed into the invisible wall.  The air rushed out of his lungs and he crashed to the ground.  She wasted no time in applying a full body bind and trussing him up like a Christmas goose.

When he was secure she let her arms drop and stood there panting as she looked around her once lovely dining room.  

There were a few pockets of resistance, but the Dark Lord was gone, as were most of his followers.  The entire ceiling, a brilliant magical masterpiece painted by the Jean Vasquez back in the 1700s was gone.  She mourned its loss even as she looked around, searching for her husband’s body.

She found him, laid out next to a frizzy haired woman she thought was Auror Whistledown - Sirius' old partner.  Several more people were nearby, lying in unnatural positions.  Most were unrecognizable under the curses that had killed them and the dust from the ceiling.  She wondered who they were, but didn’t dwell on it.  She’d find out soon enough.

Lucius' skin was painted red with the blood that had returned to liquid form.  When she reached out touch him she instantly jerked her hand backwards.  His chest was soft, as if it had turned into jelly.  She felt a sob well up inside of her, but she stomped it down.  The time for tears was later.  After she had committed fratricide.

"Cissy, I'm so sorry."

A thin, but strong arm wrapped itself around Narcissa.  She leaned into it, taking comfort from her older sister.  If she closed her eyes the years disappeared and they were once again standing on Platform 9 3/4.  About to be separated for the first time in their lives.  She'd been in tears then, terrified of spending months with only Bella for company.

Little had she known then just how separated they would become.

She pulled back took a deep breath to steady herself, "I knew the dangers.  As did he.  I know he didn't mind dying if it kept Draco alive.  Now I just have to make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain."

"Speaking of sacrifice..." 

Narcissa looked to where Andy was pointing and watched Neville Longbottom gather an unnaturally pale Pansy Parkinson into his arms and stride quickly to his mother.  The three of them apparated out and Narcissa felt cold, she had seen Hermione and Harry earlier, but it hadn't registered on her that all of the children were there.  

Or that they shouldn't be.

"Andy, why were the children here?"

Andy looked away, her cheeks flushing red, "The Order was arguing.  They couldn't even decide whether to heal Draco or not - Oh!  Don't worry!  Severus and Evelyn went and helped him before anyone could stop them."

Narcissa relaxed and then stiffened once more, "Evelyn?  As in Evelyn Whistledown?"

Andy nodded sadly and looked down at the dead woman lying beside Lucius.  Narcissa sent a prayer of gratitude to the woman.  She had never actually spoken to the woman, but she would never forget her.

"Yes, and not long after they left the Weasley twins ran off.  I didn't think anything of it until Severus came back and broke up the arguments by stating that the children had run off to rescue you.  Even with that declaration a couple tried to argue against chasing after "idiotic" children.  Sirius and Alice shut them up rather quickly, though Dung did desert us on the way here. By the time we got the wards down and arrived it was too late to get the children out.  We just had to go with it."

"I-I need to go check on Draco," Narcissa got out.  She was trying to process this new information.  She'd planned to get Draco so tied in with Hermione, Harry, and their friends that he would be safe.  She hadn't expected to find herself so drawn into it.  To know that a group of young wizards and witches - including four Weasleys - would put their lives on the line to rescue her.

It was rather remarkable and it left her feeling unworthy.  Would she ever risk her life for anyone but Draco and, maybe, Hermione?  Possibly for Lucius, but that was a moot point now.

"Here, let me apparate you to Black Cottage.  That's likely where Hermione took Harry, as well.  The wards there are almost impenetrable.  You look as if you're about to fall over.  Then I'll go check on the others.

"Thank you," Narcissa whispered as she took Andy's arm with her wand hand.  She kept her left wrapped through the shield.  Nothing on this planet could convince her to part with it.

As soon as they arrived she shoved open the gate and ran up the walk.  The cottage was almost eerily silent as she raced inside.  None of the warmth and love she had felt on her earlier visits.  Panic began to grip her.

Why was it so quiet?  Where was Severus?

She hissed, "Dobby!"

Instantly the elf popped before her, his eyes wide with fear and his little hands shaking.

"Mistress?"

"Draco!  Where is Draco?" She whispered, fearing what might happen if she was too loud.

"Master Malfoy be asleep, upstairs.  Master Snape healed him.  But he be taking potions in," the elf tilted his head and thought for a moment, "twenty-one minutes and thirty-seven seconds."

Relief coursed through her, though she still had to see him herself.

She raced up the stairs and opened the only door with light shining under it.

There.

There was the warmth and love.

Encircling the small room in which Harry, Hermione, and Draco lay sleeping on a bed much too small for three people. 

Dobby popped back into the room and took up a spot on the bed, at Draco's feet, but his gaze moved between the three children.  No, she couldn't call them children.  Not after the events of the night.

Maybe the Dark Lord had been right about one thing - new blood was needed.  But, she thought with a smile that might even have sent a shiver down Bellatrix's spine, he'd been sorely mistaken in thinking that the new blood was going to follow him.

No, she didn't think these three - and their other friends - would follow anyone.  At least not with the same blinding trust their elders had shown.

She drew up a chair and settled into it, laying the shield across her lap, but keeping her wand in hand.

"Dobby, tell me when potions must be administered.  Don't wake any of them."

"Yes, mistress."

She settled in for a long night, but she knew the morning would arrive soon enough.

It always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She got Harry out, but not without hurting herself. Also, love the scene of Narcissa going after Greyback. Thank you so much for all of the lovely feedback :)
> 
> Enjoy!


	34. Rubbish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rita goes dumpster diving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!!!!

**BOOK 2: ADULTHOOD**

Rita stared at the bin in front of her and wrinkled her nose.  The stench of rotting garbage was sunk into the very stones around her.  There had been some sort of wizarding lodging here since the Romans had place the first stone thousands of years ago, possibly even before that.  But the stones were not what drew her attention.  Rather, it was the fresh pile of discarded newspapers just barely poking out from under the lid.

This was not what she had signed up for.

Well, she supposed she hadn't really signed up.  More like she'd been pressed into service.

And what was her reward?  Her life? Glory? Fame?  She didn't know anymore.

When Narcissa had told her to just be herself she'd been confused.  She'd been told the wards wouldn't let her transform and snoop.  But then she'd decided to test them...

She'd been numb, disturbed by what she witnessed every day.  Memories had attempted to escape her locked chest. 

So she'd thought the pain of trying to transform and having it blocked would wake her up, keep her focused, keep her alive.

Yet when she had started to slip into her alternate form no pain had come.  Rather she'd found herself once more looking at the world through insect eyes.

Either Narcissa had tweaked the wards or she knew a lot more about Rita's heritage than anyone else did.  Or Narcissa had lied about the wards, a distinct possibility.

Whatever it was, the transformation had awoken something inside and she had once more found herself glad to be alive.  She had set about ensuring that, no matter what happened, she would remain so.  It hadn't been hard to sneak into the attic of the manor and procure any and all raw materials she needed.  Aside from that, she'd been given a camera and magical film to take 'normal' shots of Death Eaters for the book Gilderoy was writing.  Then all she had to do was slip some of the film into her homemade cameras and hide them around the manor - ready to be activated with a simple spell.

There had been no flash when she used them in the dining room, but the room had been brightly lit enough that things were still alright.  

After she had escaped the battle she'd sent Narcissa a quick owl with the location of the cameras.

It didn't hurt to play both sides.

Which brought her back to why she was standing in front of a rubbish bin, outside one of the most exclusive wizarding hotels in Europe, and preparing to go digging through it.

Stupid things were charmed against summoning spells.  Supposed to keep the riffraff out.

She did not appreciate that her current situation in life put her on the same rung as riffraff.

Nearly gagging she pulled on a pair of thick gloves and began digging.  Luckily she didn't have to go far to find a copy of the Daily Prophet.  After another few minutes and several papers in languages that she couldn't read she found copies of the Daily Gold, the Fae Chronicles, and the Circadian Leaf.

That was enough.  

She stuffed them in her bag and apparated away.

She landed in a deserted bit of French forest.  Headless of her already ruined robes she dropped to the ground and pulled out the papers, spreading them out so she could see all of the front covers.  

The Daily Gold, Circadian Leaf, and Daily Prophet were all from this morning, but the Fae Chronicles was marked as a special edition and had come out yesterday afternoon - about twelve hours after the battle.

There, right under the headline, were her pictures, and below that an article with Hermione Black's name on it.  She took a moment to examine the pictures, they weren't great, but they definitely showed the chaos of battle.  The largest image was of Hermione Black forcing Bellatrix Lestrange backwards, her head thrown back in laughter, showcasing the characteristic Black madness.

Terrifying.

And to think, Rita had once written terrible things about the girl.  She'd made a bigger mistake than she’d thought.  Hopefully continuing to passively spy and send pictures of any clashes would rebuild that bridge a bit.

Rolling her eyes at her own hopefulness she picked up the Fae Chronicles and began to read.

 

**_MALFOY MANOR IN RUINS!_ **

_On the eve of December 20th a moment occurred that shook the entire British Isles.  A battle began on our fair isle that lead to the death of about two dozen people, with about three dozen more injured._

_How did such a thing occur you ask?  Why Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, attempted to swell his ranks with new, young blood._

_Vincent Crabbe, a seventeen-year-old student in his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was pushed by his father to accept the Dark Mark (See p. A4 for a description of the process).  As the Mark was being administered Riddle saw something in the boy's mind that led him to require that Draco Malfoy, a sixteen-year-old student in his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, also take the Mark._

_This is when the battle began._

_Draco Malfoy said he would rather die than take the Mark.  Riddle attempted to end the Malfoy heir's existence on this planet, but was foiled by Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother.  Together, the two of them, along with Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, and Theodore Nott, a fellow classmate of Draco's, tried to escape._

_In the process Lucius Malfoy was slain and Draco Malfoy was badly injured by a dark curse.  In a moment of inspiration, Narcissa Malfoy called Dobby, their house elf.  Dobby grabbed the two boys and got them away, but was unable to come back and rescue Narcissa Malfoy._

_Here is where some of you readers may feel that I overstepped my bounds.  For I refused to wait for others to rescue my cousin.  Bellatrix Lestrange_ _née_ _Black may have murdered my parents, but Narcissa Malfoy_ _née_ _Black has been nothing but lovely to me over the years.  And her son, Draco Malfoy, is a friend of mine._

_I cannot allow one of my friends to lose a parent if it is within my power to do something about it.  There is a reason the Hogwarts Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor._

_I, along with my foster brother and our friends, entered Malfoy Manor with the help of Kreacher, our family house elf.  We stormed the dining room where Narcissa Malfoy was outnumbered and backed into a corner._

_Within fifteen minutes we were joined by our parents and their friends._

_Only then did the British Ministry of Magic act, and it took a false tip-off for the higher-ups to give the go ahead._

_Yes, we lied to the government._

_But we don't care.  Our lie forced the government to wake up and realize that Tom Riddle has returned.  Our lie resulted in the death of a dozen Death Eaters and the capture/recapture of quite a few more. (See page A4 for a full list of deaths and captures) It also enabled the capturing of these pictures.  If you look at the one below the article you will see Tom Riddle in his role as Dark Lord attempting to kill another child.  A murder I prevented with illegal appariation._

_I will gladly stand before the Wizengamot and admit to the crime of lying and apparation without a license, for all it shall result in is a fine.  Did you know that most crimes only require the payment of a fine?  How is this fair?  With the exception of direct murder, assault (magical or physical), and torture, anyone can pay the fine and escape time in Azkaban.  Yes, even if our actions indirectly led to the deaths of others.  There is no such thing as manslaughter (See page B2 for more on manslaughter) in the wizarding world.  This ensures that the wealthy old families stay free, while those less fortunate do time.  But that is of little import at the moment.  Right now it is life or death._

_Tom Riddle has fled the British Isles with his remaining followers.  Will you give him succor?  Will you house a man that tries to kill children for refusing him?  Will you feed and clothe a monster?  Are you no better than him?_

_Well, are you?_

 

The article ended there and Rita looked down at the image taking up the rest of the page.  She was amazed her camera had managed to capture it. And at such a pivotal few seconds.

There was the Dark Lord, looking as if he was on the verge of winning it all, his wand pointed down at Harry Potter.  Green light began to emerge from the wand and then, before it could even leave the tip Hermione Black appeared, her face full of insane determination as she grabbed her brother and disappeared.

The look on the Dark Lord's face right before the picture restarted was priceless.  Rita was very glad it had taken her a good ten hours to catch up to him.  She'd managed to escape the punishment he'd dealt out to everyone he could reach.

Oh, and she'd also managed to sneak off a letter listing the locations of all of her hidden cameras.

She supposed she could have let herself be captured by the Ministry, but then she wouldn't be here, in the middle of it all.  When this was finished she planned to write the true memoirs of Tom Riddle, even if she was doing it from a cell in Azkaban.  She'd make certain her name went down in history, that years from now people would know her

She was going to take the monster and make him a mere man.

But to do that, she had to survive.

She quickly scanned the other foreign papers, seeing if they had anything different.  When they didn't she sadly incinerated the lot.  Merely keeping the Daily Prophet and its lies.  That could be called memoir research, but not the ones containing Miss Black's words.

No, the Dark Lord would not be happy to see that article or the pictures.  There was no way she was going to tell him.

No way in hell.

Rather she'd bring him the paper filled with so much hot air she was surprised it hadn't burst into flames on its own.

Even the headline made her roll her eyes.

 

**_FAKE TIPOFF KILLS AURORS_ **

_Yesterday evening Sirius Black arrived at the Ministry auror office with a ransom note declaring that the Malfoys had kidnapped his children - Hermione Granger Black and Harry James Potter - and demanded that their son inherit the Black fortune.  Mr. Black then declared that he was going to get them back with or without the help of his former co-workers (See page C7 on why Mr. Black left the aurors)._

_The aurors tried to detain him, but through trickery they were misled.  They were forced to go after him to prevent damage to the Malfoy family without being able to verify anything._

_Upon arrival the aurors were ambushed and found themselves quite out-numbered.  It is currently unclear on what was happening, but we are sure that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, was behind it._

_As of this moment, he is considered to be among the dead, but Madam Umbridge, an Undersecretary to Minister Fudge, told us, "No stone shall go uncovered to discover how such a tragedy occurred.  All bodies will be verified before a full list of deaths is released."_

_We do know that ten aurors and a dozen civilians are currently at St. Mungos.  No list has been released, but it is rumored that Sirius Black is there.  The whereabouts of Harry Potter and Hermione Black, as well as the Malfoys, is currently unknown. (See page D6 on how the families are related)_

 

Rita had to stop reading there, the sun had begun to sink and she still needed to find some food.  Spending so long merely retrieving a newspaper would not be acceptable; and she really didn't want to be the target of anyone's frustration.  

No, she liked not being tortured.

With a sigh she slipped the paper into her robes, cast a quick glamour, and made the short walk into the nearby village.

As she walked she couldn't help but tear apart the article in the Daily Prophet.  They must have hired an amateur to replace her.  Granted, the paper had come out before the articles with pictures in the other papers.  Still, they hadn't even mentioned a RUMOR of the Dark Lord being back.  They were going to be completely discredited when the other newspapers circled through England, and she knew they would.  Too many people had overseas connections that would be clipping out that article and sending it, or writing letters.  Though, if she was Hermione Black and had the wealth of the Blacks behind her she would just straight up order a copy of one of the papers for every wizarding family in the British Isles.

She shook her head and sighed, if she was a Black she wouldn't be in this mess.

She reached the French village and looked around.  She'd been here just yesterday, not that the villagers knew that.  Her skill with obliviation had gotten her this task.  The Dark Lord knew she wouldn't cause a scene by attacking anyone - thereby giving away his location - and she'd entered the muggle world many times over her life.  Either for research on a story or when she was younger and visited her muggle grandparents. Only Severus Snape had as much knowledge of the muggle world as she did, and he was stuck in Hogwarts, dealing with idiot Ministry officials. 

She sighed and quickly went about pilfering food and obliviating anyone that caught her.  After an hour she had enough to feed everyone for the next two days.

Right before she apparated back to the bunker in the Alps she let out a small sigh, schooled her features, and locked everything away behind petty thoughts and mindless gossip.

Survival first, glory would have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm about to go out, and the chapter is ready, so up it goes a bit earlier than normal. Yes, there is no Draco and Hermione, but I hope the articles answered some questions. Thank you for the lovely reviews people. One of my favorite authors - Shayalonnie - got harassed this week over on FFN and is now editing and moving over to Ao3. 
> 
> I want to say thank you to all of you lovely readers and how none of you have ever given me cause to wonder if what I was writing was wrong.
> 
> Thank you.


	35. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco deal with their thoughts and emotions following the Battle of Malfoy Manor.

Snow began to fall and coat the dark ground with a pure white blanket, but Draco paid it no mind.

His thoughts were as far away from the small garden as they possibly could be.  

Every time he closed his eyes he was back in the dining room at Malfoy Manor.  Sometimes he was once again speaking with Lord Voldemort.  Other times he was watching his father fall, doing something he had thought he could never do - defying his master.

Had his father's words about the Malfoy magic been real?  Had there ever been a chain?  Or was it a lie passed down through the generations?  Keeping Malfoys in line.

"Why, father?  Why change now?" he whispered into the soft silence.

"Draco?"

He looked up to see his mother standing in the gated entrance.  The cheerful lights of the cottage causing her to glow like the angel he had once thought her to be.

That had been a lie.

In the few days he'd been stuck in bed it had been quite easy for him to realize she had been prepared for that fight.  That shield in front of her - disguised as a serving platter.  Even her placement at the table - putting herself between him and Lord Voldemort.  She had reacted so quickly to his defiance, as if she had predicted it. 

Potter had been right: his mother was much more than she pretended to be.

That's why he had been avoiding her since he first woke up several days ago to the sound of Hermione arguing with Mr. Lovegood. 

That had been surprise, just as much as the sight of Potter lying across the foot of the bed.  Not that it had really registered as a surprise until later, when the potions wore off and his brain cleared.  At first it had seemed right to see her beside him propped up on pillows, her arm and shoulder bandaged up.  He’d drifted back to sleep to the sound of her demanding word changes and arguments over the proper tone.  When he’d awoken again he’d heard his mother speaking to Snape about potions, their conversation was accompanied by Hermione’s even breathing next to him.  He’d pretended to still be asleep, his brain clear enough to remember why he was in a bed that was not his own, his heart and soul unwilling to tip the scale he was lying on and show him everything his defiance had caused.

He’d been avoiding her ever since.  As well as almost everyone else.  At least Potter and Hermione never seemed to want him to speak when he was around them.

But, he supposed that avoiding his mother today was not a kind thing to do.  It was Christmas Eve, after all.

When he made no response she crossed the fresh snow and sat down on the bench next to him. Idly brushing the snow away with her hand, her wand still secured in her robes - as it would be for several weeks.

"You've been avoiding me."

He shrugged.  She would need to explain more before he would decide whether to actually respond to her or not.

"You have questions, I'm assuming."

Still he said nothing.

Surprisingly, she chuckled.

"You are most certainly the son of Lucius and myself.  Both of us were much too stubborn to see the truth for far too long."

He looked at her and cocked an eyebrow, she smiled in response and then let out a long sigh.

"Alright, interrupt me when you have questions.  Otherwise, I will try to explain why you feel so betrayed.  As a Black I was almost like royalty in Slytherin House at Hogwarts.  When I entered Slytherin House I already had two older sisters in it.  Bellatrix was four years older than me, but due to our birth months she was five years ahead of me in school.  Andromeda was only two years ahead of me and before Hogwarts the two of us were inseparable.  Until they finished school I was practically invisible, just the baby sister of two much more visible witches.  I adapted to this and, when Bellatrix graduated, I began making it work for me, using my invisibility, but prominent family name, to make small changes in the house.  To take apart some of the 'traditions' that an old prefect had started about twenty years before I entered.  Andromeda graduated and then eloped with Ted right before my sixth year.  Lucius also graduated that year, so he only knew my name, not me personally.  He was supposed to marry Andromeda, before she ran off and followed her heart.  In my last two years at Hogwarts I took over and ruled the House with an iron fist - though only those in my year truly knew it.  I discovered that keeping up appearances and working from the shadows tended to net more results than being in the limelight."

She stopped and let out a small sigh, "And that was when I made my first mistake."

He couldn't help but ask, "What did you do?"

"I found myself engaged to your father and I chose to hide my true nature.  He despised me.  He had wanted a strong, confident wife, not the china doll I projected to the world.  There's a reason we were married for so long before you were born.  He-"

"Mother!  I understand!" He protested, nothing could make him willing to hear about his parents' sexual lives.  He preferred to believe he was hatched from an egg.

She snickered, "Alright, but by the time I did get him to come around and accept me, he had already given his allegiance to the Dark Lord.  That was when I snapped and let my true personality show.  For, you see, I knew that the Dark Lord was born Tom Riddle.  My father knew him in school and loved to wax poetic about him.  The Dark Lord was the prefect - Tom Riddle - that had started the despicable practices in Slytherin House.  The ones that truly ruined the House's reputation.  I hated that man.  I still do.  It's why I started working years ago to ensure you would never follow him like your father did."

He reeled under this knowledge, "That's why you wanted me to get engaged to Hermione.  So I wouldn't admire him like Father!"

He couldn't believe it.  She hadn't just planned out this evening.  She'd planned out his life.

"That's part of the reason, yes.  But I also know you are very like your father.  You want to be surrounded by strong, confident people.  Even as the weak look to you for guidance, you crave the attentions of those that are your equals, or, even those above you.  Do you remember when you bumped into Hermione during your second year and she kneed you in the middle of a Hogwarts corridor?  Then Dumbledore found you?  You wrote me about it."

Draco winced as he remembered, "Yes."

"She had just accidently gotten her hands on something your father slipped to Ginerva Weasley.  A dark object that had once belonged to the Dark Lord.  I don't know much about it, but I do know that it spoke with the Dark Lord's voice.  From the way he reacted upon learning of its destruction...I can make a few guesses, though I find some to be truly unbelievable.   At the time I only knew it was evil and intricate.  And that it was a sign, I knew, deep within my soul that he would come back.  I was at loss of what to do to protect you, that is, until you came home and spent almost an hour ranting at me about 'Hermione Black and her bloody inability to mind her own business.'  Frankly, I'm quite grateful she can't mind her own business.  Otherwise I would already be lying next to your father right now."

"You've been planning for this moment since I was twelve!?!"

He couldn't believe it.  Planning ahead so far...with so many variables...

It was inconceivable.

"Draco, I've been planning for your future since the day you were born.  I regret to say that I let my own blood prejudices shape your younger years, as much as my inability to deny you anything.  After the Dark Lord fell I was giddy with the thought that Lucius was now all mine.  The Dark Lord may have chained Lucius to him with power, but I had chained him with love.  A love I returned in equal measure.” She grew silent for a moment and he looked over to see her fingers clenched into fists, wrinkling her robes.  “A wise, if rather foolish man, used to say that love was the most powerful force in the world.  Your father proved that to be true."

"He said nothing could break the chain formed by our family magic.  How did you know love would?"

She smiled sadly and reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand for a moment before pulling back.

"I didn't know.  I was prepared for both possibilities, but I could only hope your father could break the chain.  I've spent many years researching family magic.  Malfoy family magic is built around subtlety, but, more than any other family, it is focused on protecting itself, no matter what.  When you were in danger, the future of the family was in danger.  Between that, and the love that binds the three of us together, it was enough.  He did what no Malfoy has ever done before - he broke a chain formed in the idiocy of youth."

His fists clenched and he looked up, watching snow dance through the moonlight.

"Idiocy of youth.  What if I follow his path?  I don't admire Lord Voldemort," his mother visibly shuddered at the name, but he continued on, “but what if I admire the wrong man? If history repeats itself? "

"Draco, it doesn't have to be a man you admire."

Her words slipped out into the cold air, dancing among the snowflakes before landing on him like an avalanche.

"Hermione," he whispered.

It made sense.  He'd admired her just a little bit ever since she'd leapt out that window to go rescue her brother.  His respect for her had only grown over the following months.  Especially after he had seen her scars - had known what she lived with every day.  He admired her and she was a powerful witch. He’d even put himself at risk to rescue her.  Put his entire family at risk.

He had chained himself without even realizing it was a possibility.

Something clicked, deep down in his magic.  He could feel a line, one that had been there for a long time, but he had only just noticed.  It ran away from him and back into the cottage.

At first, relief flooded through him.  Hermione would never grow dark.  She would never torture children or force him to kill.  Of all the people he knew he could be chained to, Hermione was the best.  

She would never use it against him.

When the relief faded, anger began to boil up. His mother had set this up.  She had manipulated him as much as his grandfather had manipulated his father.

"You planned this."

"Yes."

There was no apology in her voice.

He wanted to ask why, but he already knew.  

He stood up and straightened his robes, "You couldn't have planned everything.  You didn't know I would-" he stopped, a thought appearing.

"You did know!  You had Snape show me how to cure Hermione!" 

He stared at her, shock leaving him gaping down at her pinched and tired face.

"Yes, though it was always your choice.  You never had to brew the potion.  You didn't have to save her."

His head reeled.  It was too much.

He turned and ran.

XXX

"You are much too quiet, what's on your mind?"

Hermione nibbled on her lip and looked over at Padfoot.  Just the sight of him made her want to crawl up and cry.

His hair had been cut by the healers, which only seemed to highlight the fresh, red scars crisscrossing his skin.  

He looked like Uncle Remus now.

Hermione had heard Padfoot joking about that, when he was still at St. Mungos.

She didn’t know how they could joke when all she wanted to do was cry.

Padfoot was scarred, like her.

Except he couldn't hide them.  And it was her fault.  She'd been the one to lead the charge into Malfoy Manor.  She was the reason the Order had come.  

The reason Dumbledore, Whistledown, and several others were dead.

The reason Pansy was in a coma and Theo was in physical therapy.  It was her fault Ron now sported a nasty cursed scar across his chest - he claimed the spell actually only hit him after bouncing off a silver goblet.  

She shuddered to think what it would have done if it was a direct hit.

Luna had been hit in the head with a small fireball.  She'd only suffered minimal burns, but now parts of her scalp refused to grow hair.

All because they trusted her enough to follow her.

She could've gotten them all killed.

She and Harry had been moments from dying.  She had allowed herself to lose control.  First to the Black bloodlust, and then to her own fear.

She was weak.

"Hermione Granger Black."

She jumped and looked back up at Padfoot.  It was hard to meet his eyes, what with him lying face down on the lounge as his back was still tender.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head.  And I'll tell you the same thing I told Harry: Look at the guilt, accept the guilt, and then put it away.  Once you've done that, look back at the situation again.  I won't tell you what you'll see, but I know what I see."

Her fingers tightened in her robes, but she didn't look away.  He was right, she couldn't let the guilt consume her, it would do no good.

"What do you see," she asked.

"I see my daughter, a young woman brave and honorable enough to stage a rescue mission to save our cousin.  I also see a young woman clever enough to force the Order to action and, through the manipulation of public opinion, force the Ministry to get involved.  Make them realize Voldemort truly is back."

"You lied to the Ministry at first.  You showed that fake ransom note."

He chuckled, "That was Andy's idea, I'll admit, but it got them moving.  It was your articles that made them accept what they saw.  Made it so that when the aurors that came returned to the Ministry with the news they were believed.  Also," he looked at her seriously, "Cissy wouldn't be alive right now if you hadn't taken action."

"But so many people died..."

She looked away again and watched the light from the fire dance across the rug.  

"Yes, but we also killed or captured a lot of death eaters.  This is a war, Hermione, people are going to die.  We just have to do our best to lower the numbers and make every person count."

Her fists clenched and she felt her nails dig into her skin.  The sharp pain calmed her, bringing her attention back to the present.  She took a deep breath and slowly released it.  As she did so she uncurled her hands.

Little half-moons decorated her skin, reminding her of the full moon outside.

It was the first full moon Padfoot had been unable to keep Uncle Remus company.  The last full moon for which Whistledown had brewed Wolfsbane for him.

No.

She pushed the thoughts back and made herself continue to focus on breathing.

She was so focused that it took a soft hand touching her own to bring her back.

She looked up, blinking in confusion until she realized the woman crouched before her on the rug was no other than Narcissa Malfoy.

"Hermione, I think Sirius and I need to talk with you some more on the Black magic.  If you feel up to it at the moment."

She was instantly reminded of losing control, of coming within seconds of killing Bellatrix.

The thought sickened her, but she did not throw up.

"How do I control the bloodlust?  I don't-" she paused and swallowed, "I don't want to lose control again."

"Find an anchor," they said together, causing Hermione to crack a small smile at the expressions on their faces.

She doubted they thought the same thought often, even if their goals in life were remarkably similar at this point in time.

"I used to use James, Remus, and," he scowled, "the rat.  That's why I almost lost control when I found out James had died because we'd been betrayed.  A rather wise, if neurotic, wizard pointed out that I had other responsibilities at that point.  I turned you and Harry into my anchors."

"I used to use Andromeda, when we were in school.  Then she ran off and I was adrift for a bit.  Luckily nothing truly terrible happened.  When Lucius and I grew close and fell in love he was my anchor, but Draco has taken his spot.  A very good thing as I don't think I'd be sane right now if Lucius had been my only anchor."

Hermione couldn't help but scowl, "Why wasn't I told this before?"

Sirius sighed and reached up to scratch absently at a puckered, pink scar.

Narcissa looked pointedly at him, "Yes, why wasn't she told?  I know I was told before I even started Hogwarts.  As were you."

He looked away from them, "At first I thought she'd escaped the bloodlust, though I did warn her that the Black magic could try and force her to do things.  When I began to suspect otherwise I realized Harry was her anchor.  As he was going nowhere and they also had the blood wards tying them together I figured it was a moot point.  I was wrong.  Apparently a brother is not a strong enough emotional anchor when faced with the murderer of your parents and the one that carved words into your skin."

"Apparently not," Narcissa said coolly, arching a delicate brow at Padfoot.  Hermione envied her that ability.

He very pointedly did not look at her, instead focusing on the crackling fire.

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable at the idea of emotional anchors Hermione cast about for another topic.  The quietness of the cottage quickly gave her one.

"Where is everyone else?"

Narcissa turned her attention back on Hermione, "Draco reacted poorly to our discussion and ran off into the woods.  I saw Harry chase after them and as I am currently as magically gifted as a first-year I sent Nymphadora and Alianore off after them.  Kreacher and Dobby are currently arguing in the kitchen over who gets to prepare breakfast tomorrow.  I cast a silencing charm on the room as they are getting quiet noisy."

"Do you think we should break up the fight," Hermione asked.

Padfoot snorted, "Don't even think about meddling in elf business.  They're both older than you and can figure it out, I'm sure." 

"Yes, besides, they won't be working together forever.  I'm think Draco and I will find a new place to live once I'm back to full strength."

"No, you two are not going out to live alone.  I just bet Draco is now almost tied with Harry on Voldemort's 'Must Kill List.”

"I agree," Hermione said after Padfoot finished.

Narcissa's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Are you two trying to forbid me?"

Hermione and Padfoot gaped at her for a moment, then Padfoot rolled his eyes, “Really, Cissy?  Do you honestly think we’re so thick we don’t realize that you actually want to keep staying here?  After all, won’t having Hermione and Draco under the same roof make things easier for you?  Unless you’ve given up on your plan to see them wed?” Hermione made a face at that, but she surprisingly felt none of the old revulsion at the idea.

Narcissa sighed as the annoyance left her face, “Can’t you at least let me pretend to be sneaky?”

“Nope!  Now, are you really planning to find a different house?”

Narcissa gave a sharp shake of her head, her eyes promising retribution for ruining her attempt at being subtle.

Hermione couldn't help it, she snickered, and when she heard Padfoot do the same she only laughed harder.  A moment later Narcissa joined in, and all the tension left the cozy room.  Hermione felt more at ease than she had in days.

XXX

He was somewhere in the woods, by a small frozen creek.  The air was filled with a stillness that could only be found in a winter night.  Not even his harsh breathing could truly break it.

He plopped down on a small boulder, trying to catch his breath.  Something sharp dug into his thigh and he reached under to find a rough rope.

Pulling in it did nothing.  Using the light of the moon he traced the rope down to the creek, where it disappeared through the ice.

"It's a fish feeder."

He jumped and spun, almost falling off the boulder.  His wand pointed at the speaker, even though his magic claimed the speaker was no threat.

"Potter."

"Draco.  Mind if I sit?"  He gestured to the empty spot on the rock.

Draco shook his head and shifted to allow Pot- no, Harry, more room.  Might as well call him by his first name.  He had almost died saving Draco's mother.  If that didn't eliminate their childhood animosity, he wasn't sure what would.

Neither of them spoke for several moments.  Draco couldn't help but wonder how and why Harry had followed him.  The other boy seemed to know this.

"I overheard you and your mother in the garden."

"So, you followed me in case you had to play hero?  Make sure I did nothing stupid?"  Draco asked bitterly.

"No."

"Then why?"

Harry was silent, so Draco looked over at him curiously.  There was a small frown on the other boy's brow and a pensive look in the eyes that twinkled like emeralds in the winter moonlight.  Draco found himself wishing the person next to him had eyes like polished mahogany instead.

"How much do you know about the magic in other families?"

"Not much."

"Okay, well, I'll try to explain as I go along.  The Potter magic has always tended towards defense, with the greatest weakness being arrogance and overconfidence.  As well as trouble with more subtle things.  Things Malfoys have always excelled at."

Draco knew that if he had heard this years ago he would have gloated.  Now he just nodded and commented, "But you are far from arrogant and overconfident.  Besides, you do fairly well in potions when Snape leaves you alone."

Harry chuckled, "Part of that is due to Hermione.  But you're right.  I don't suffer from the same flaws as my father and grandfather.  In part because my mother was Muggle-born and so did not bind her magic when she got married.  This meant her new family magic mixed with my father's.  It was her family magic, her capacity to love, that saved me that night.  She gave her life to save me.  And my father gave his to save her.  These sacrifices, combined with the fact that their blood and magic runs through me, allowed Dumbledore to cast blood wards on me."

Harry rolled up one sleeve and tapped his arm with his wand, whispering a strange word.

Runes appeared - runes far outside of Draco's ability to translate.

"Dumbledore hid them, but Luna found the spell to reveal them.  She taught it to me.  They stay active as long as I share a home with someone of my mother's blood."

"They're still active," Draco said, stating the obvious.

Harry chuckled, "Very active.  They've actually morphed into more of a bond than originally intended.  I don't think Dumbledore ever expected that.  We're able to track each other and speak without words.  In highly emotional times we can even see through each other's eyes."

"That's how you two do it."

Draco was shocked, stunned even.  He'd always wondered how Hermione had known Voldemort was back or how to find Harry last May.  

"Yes, that's also how I found you tonight.  I can feel you through ny bond with her, now that I know you're there.  Thinking back, I feel like I knew you were tied in with us ever since I followed you to that strange, disappearing potions room last June.  It's likely why I trusted you so easily to save her.  I never loan out my cloak.  Not even Hermione has used it without me."

It also explained why Draco had felt so hurt when Harry accused him of not changing.  Or, maybe that was just his imagination.  From his father's disgust at Voldemort he was reasonably certain that the bond did not create emotions, even if it needed admiration to form.

"You know, you have to tell Hermione, once you wrap your mind around this.  She deserves to know.  Especially because it will not be pretty if she learns at the wrong moment."

Draco frowned, "What do you mean it won't be pretty?"

"Black family magic.  Hermione's is diluted a bit as she was old enough when she was adopted to bring in some of her own magic, but with her experiences it almost makes it worse.  She doesn't take well to learning that something – or someone – she considers hers is put in danger.  And with this bond you become - partly - her responsibility."

"You mean she could run off and do something stupid.  Like she did when you were kidnapped."

"Yes.  It's also likely why your mother manipulated you and everyone else.  Blacks will do anything to protect what is theirs, or so Padfoot says.  And you are her most prized possession.  Though I doubt she views you as a possession any more than Hermione views me as one."

"What about Sirius Black?  He's not known for being possessive."

"Oh, yes he is.  It's just that as a former Gryffindor most people mistake it for recklessness.  When my parents were killed he almost went out of his head with the desire for vengeance.  But he had Hermione already when he learned.  And a young toddler he had just rescued and adopted ranked higher than my parents on his list of 'possessions'.  He was satisfied with letting Moody take care of it."

"And the Prewett brothers," Draco said, remembering his father explaining why they had found a soulless Peter Pettigrew in Azkaban.  

Blowing up the last two male heirs of an old wizarding family had been unforgivable.  Not to mention the rat's part in betraying the Potters.

"Yes, and the Prewett brothers."

Draco sighed, "I'll talk to Hermione.  Tomorrow, after Christmas dinner.  You two just got Sirius Black back from St. Mungos.  You should be spending time with him."

Pot-, no, Harry rested a hand on Draco's shoulder.  "You should just call him Padfoot.  You're family after all."

Draco opened his mouth to argue, but then snapped it closed when he realized there was a lump in his throat.

Family.

Family was important.  Family was all he had.  His friends were out of his reach right now.  Pansy was still under a stasis charm as they attempted to break the curse on her and Theo was living with the Tonks as he learned to live with his own injuries.  Injuries Draco felt were his fault. He was too afraid to see if Theo blamed him.  After all, Draco had been the one to defy Lord Voldemort.

And yet all he had received were scars.  Scars that were easily covered by the trousers he always wore.  Guilt wracked through him and his eyes began to burn.

His father, Headmaster Dumbledore, and several others were dead because of him.  His fault, it was all his fault.

Cold fingers grasped his and Draco gasped as there was suddenly a faint presence in his mind.

He tensed and looked over at Harry.

"You think you're the only one that feels guilty?" Harry shook his head, "We all feel it.  I almost let Voldemort kill me because of it.  But, do you know what Padfoot told me when I visited him in St. Mungos?"

"What?" Draco croaked out.

"Guilt is a teacher, accept it, learn from it, and then put it in a box.  Once you do that, you can look back at the situation properly."

"Did," he stopped and cleared his throat, "did you do that?"

Harry nodded, "Yes."

"What did you find?"

A grim smile appeared, giving Harry an almost sinister look in the moonlight.

"What did I find?  I found that the only truly guilty one is Voldemort.  Not you, not me, and not Hermione.  I intend to make sure he pays for his crimes.  Now, Draco, will you help me?”

Harry took his hand off of Draco’s - breaking the mental connection - and instead offered it in a handshake.

He stared at it for a single heartbeat, but, really it wasn’t a choice.  He reached out and shook the Gryffindor’s hand firmly.

“Of course.”

The two young men smiled at each other, though Draco felt no happiness behind his own smile.  More of a comforting security.

A branch cracked and Draco's heart stopped even as he released Harry's hand and drew his wand.

The full moon filtered through the trees, showing two witches standing there.  One had long red hair, the other short and pink.

"Wotcher, boys!  Happy Christmas!"  Tonks said happily, while her companion scoffed.

"Draco, Harry, nice reflexes, but you're both still dead.  What possessed you two to go running outside of the wards?"

Draco groaned, why must red-heads take such delight in torturing him with their existence?

"Sorry, I saw Draco run off and didn't think," Harry apologized as he stowed his wand and hopped off the rock.

Draco kept his out and clambered off the rock - he didn't trust Alianore Roux not to give him an impromptu 'test' after he'd been so stupid.

"Luckily Narcissa came inside and told us you'd run off.  I left a perfectly good glass of mulled wine to chase after you nitwits," Alianore grumbled as they all began walking back to Black Cottage.

"Point," Tonks said, "Draco, you should know your mother is still magically exhausted.  She can't go running after you.  Not when she can only cast the simplest of spells."

Guilt rushed through Draco and he felt his cheeks heat up.  The truth was, he  _ hadn't  _ been thinking.  

So much for being a perfect Slytherin, he was acting much more like a Gryffindor lately.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Alianore let out a delicate snort and fell back a bit so she could clap him on the shoulder, "Don't feel guilty, just  _ think _ first! Alright?  Plans can ensure victory, even against the greatest of odds.  Besides, you're a Slytherin.  Plans should be the most important thing to you."

"Point," slipped out of his mouth before he even thought about it.  Earning a chuckle from the three people walking with him.

Draco felt his lips twist into his own rueful smile as he stepped onto a well-trod path.

Perhaps he wasn't quite as alone as he'd believed he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life happened and I wasn't able to post yesterday. But here's a very nice long chapter. No direct Draco and Hermione action, but a good scene between Draco and his mother, as well as Draco and Harry. Also, you get to see Sirius alive and recovering. You'll notice the full moon in this chapter and the fact it's Christmas Eve, while the battle took place on Dec. 20th. So, Sirius is not a werewolf. Also we get a bit more on Black Family Magic and controlling the bloodlust it can cause. One guess on who will become Hermione's 'anchor' now that a single sibling relationship isn't strong enough.
> 
> And yes, Pansy is in a coma (You'll learn more details on that soon), Theo isn't doing too well (Again, more on that soon), and Ron got hit with the same curse Hermione was hit with in the DoM in canon. Cept this time it wasn't cast silently, rather it had ricocheted off a silver goblet.
> 
> Also, can I recommend anyone that enjoys a good Historical AU go check out Refictionista's fic Sonus ex Veneficia, the Sound of Witchcraft. It's a continuation of her Roman one-shot, Donum Scientae, a gift for learning. Still, very new and short, but very rich in detail and expectations. I have it in my bookmarks.


	36. Christmas at the Weasleys'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco experiences his first Christmas at the Weasley's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, surprise chapter. I'm American. If you follow either of my tumblrs you know just how I feel about the election (I'm aroseindaegu and enigmaticrose4).
> 
> So, to make myself feel better (and I haven't even replied to all the previous chapter's reviews) here's a mid-week chapter.
> 
> P.S. This is edited a bit, because, as briallyson94 (on FFN) pointed out, not all of you have my political beliefs. But, even so, you can likely guess just from my writing that I'm rather liberal. At least socially. I'm just explaining why I'm posting an extra chapter. If me being against Trump is cause to stop reading Brightest Black, go ahead. I'm not going to force anyone to read my fanfiction.

The next day dawned bright and sunny, but still impossibly cold.  Despite herself, Hermione couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement when she realized the snow had stuck and that it was a white Christmas.

There were gifts piled at the foot of her bed, but she didn't feel like opening them alone, so she gathered them into her bag and crossed the hall to the room Harry and Draco were sharing.  They had put Narcissa up in the small guest room.  Tonks and Alianore had slept on cots in the sitting room, though Hermione assumed the two of them were long gone by now.  Helping Uncle Remus recover from the transformation.  Padfoot usually handled it, but with his injuries it was all he could do to climb the stairs to his bedroom in the evening.  They'd built a special room in the Marauder’s Academy just for him.  She'd hopefully see them all later at the Burrow.

A quiet knock on the boys' door got Harry shouting out, "Come on in!  We're decent!"

She entered and instantly felt warmth and happiness spread through her, mixing with the thrill of excitement from earlier.  The room was virtually unchanged from before Draco joined Harry.  Though the bed had been magically transformed so that the canopy had become an upper bunk for Draco.

There just wasn't room for two individual beds.

Hence why Draco had climbed down and was sitting cross-legged at the foot of Harry's bed as the two of them opened the presents that had been left for them overnight. 

Harry was near the head, propped up against his pillow, so she plopped herself in the middle and began pulling gifts out of her bag.

She noticed that most of Draco's gifts were wrapped in the snitch bedecked paper Padfoot had bought, though there was one wrapped in Mrs. Weasley's home-charmed paper.  The Ws kept rolling around to form Ms, which Hermione thought was a nice touch.

"Happy Christmas," she said as he tore into her own Weasley gift.  A lovely jumper of- 

She paused and stared at it in surprise and a bit of shock.

It was BLACK!  And it had flames on the front, with what looked like an egg resting among them.

"What the..."

"I'm going to guess one of the Weasley's let slip to her our nicknames," Harry said ruefully as he held up a midnight blue jumper with a pair of antlers on the front.

"That doesn't explain mine.  Or why I even have one."

And, indeed, Draco was holding up his own Weasley jumper.  This one was Slytherin green (Which shocked Hermione quite a bit!) and had a silver dragon.

Mrs. Weasley had never knit such elaborate sweaters before.  And the wool was a much higher quality than normal. 

"There's a note," she said, pointing to small piece of parchment that had fallen onto Draco's lap.

He picked it up and scanned it, his eyebrows rising up his forehead as he did so.

"She's apologizing, says she has only been working on it for the past two days and that if it's a bit rough around the edges, she'll ensure the next one isn't."

Harry chuckled, "I guess you're part of the family now, we better get you a coin."

Hermione nodded and jumped off the bed.  When she came back a few moments later Draco was still looking stunned and a bit overwhelmed, but he had put the jumper on over his borrowed pajamas.

His room had been above the dining room at Malfoy Manor.  Not much of his wardrobe had survived the blast Hermione had sent at the ceiling.  So he was borrowing Harry's things until they could safely make a trip to Diagon Alley.

It's not like the Malfoy vaults had been touched.  And while Draco couldn't access them by himself until June, Lucius Malfoy had acted very intelligently and made Narcissa the executer of his estate if he should die before Draco could inherit.

"Here, Draco,"

He reached up to take the coin and then froze, "You-you called me by my given name."

Something in his voice made her heart flutter, but she stomped it down.

"You're living in my home.  Plus, you're family.  Calling you Malfoy just seems silly now."

His smile made her breath catch and she found herself easily returning it.

A cough from Harry brought their attention to him.

"Look what I just found."

He was holding up an ancient leather tome.  Potter was pressed into the leather and painted Gryffindor red.

"How...didn't Padfoot say be couldn't find it?"  Hermione asked, gazing at it in wonder.  After recieving hers they had attempted to find the Potter one, with no luck.  Copies may be magically delivered to all qualifying family members, but the originals had to be physically passed down.

"There's a note," Draco said, leaning across Hermione and pulling a scrap of parchment out of the plain brown wrapping paper.

His shoulder brushed against Hermione's chest and she felt her skin tingle where they made contact.  She felt uncomfortably warm and she scooted back a bit.

"Personal space, please." She managed to get out in a flat voice.

Draco flushed a pale pink but merely nodded as he sat up straight and read the note aloud.

Mr. Potter,

I managed to collect this from the old fool's belongings before the Ministry arrived.  He never managed to open it as he has no Potter blood in his veins.  I am unsure where the matriarchal tome is, but as it is meant to be used by non-Potter wives I can only assume the secrets were stolen.  Guard this well, and use it to stay alive.

S.S.

"Will wonders never cease?  If I was any older I might have a heart attack," Harry said in wonder as he took the note.

"That is most certainly Professor Snape's handwriting," Draco stated as he pulled out the only present left not wrapped in Padfoot's snitch paper.

It looked like a book and Hermione had a strong suspicion of what it was.

"Why do you think Dumbledore had the Potter Tome?  Shouldn't he have given it to Padfoot to pass onto Harry?"  Hermione asked absently, pulling out a gift and opening it to find more animated animal chocolates from Luna.  She sighed.  That girl could be creative, but she tended to latch onto whatever she thought was a good idea.

Hermione rather thought she'd be getting this chocolate until the day she died.  All because she said she'd liked it.

"Dumbledore may have been a Gryffindor, but he was almost as Slytherin as my mother," Draco said absently as he ran his hands over the green leather cover of his own family tome.

"Point," Harry said, before popping a bit of Mrs. Weasley's fudge in his mouth.

Hermione rolled her eyes and dug out another gift just as a knock sounded on the door.

"It's open!"  Harry called out.

Padfoot pushed it open and leaned against the doorframe, being careful not to strain his re-growing back muscles.

She frowned, "Padfoot, are you going to do the physical therapy like I suggested?  Once your muscles are regrown?"

He winced, "And a Happy Christmas to you too.  But, yes, I have an appointment with Frank Tonks the day you lot head back to Hogwarts.  He did a good job with you, and he's helped Theo Nott quite a bit, even if they've only met twice so far.  Andy says it's done quite a bit to improve the poor boy's mood."

Something made Hermione turn and look at Draco as Padfoot spoke.  The expression on his face tugged at her heartstrings and she reached out to touch his shoulder.  He jumped, but didn't pull away.  Instead he stared at her hand for a moment before taking a deep breath and reaching up to pat it in thanks.

Something inside of Hermione shifted in that moment.

She couldn't explain it, not even if she had pulled out a dictionary. 

XXX

Draco stepped neatly from the fireplace and instantly found himself in another world.

The Black Cottage had been remarkably different from Malfoy Manor, but it had still contained a layer of gentility.  It was tastefully decorated and all of furniture was of a high quality.

The Burrow was the exact opposite.

The rug under his feet was faded and threadbare.  The sofa was one of the most hideous things he had ever seen, though he had to admit it looked remarkably comfortable. 

Or, at least, Weasley looked incredibly comfortable there with Lovegood cuddled up next to him.

A sliver of guilt stabbed through Draco as he studied his two classmates as they greeted Harry and Hermione.

Weasley was extremely pale and Draco noticed he only moved his arms.  He'd been hit with some sort of nasty curse across the torso.  Likely wouldn't be alive if luck hadn't been on his side.

Lovegood was running one of her small hands through Weasley's hair.  Her own was cropped close and mostly hidden under a blue knitted cap.  One that looked to be handmade.  He looked down at the dragon sweater he wore and then back at the cap.  The cap had to be a gift from Mrs. Weasley.

Of course she'd knit Lovegood a cap to hid her injuries.

Injuries sustained from rescuing his mother.  A rescue only required because he'd defied the Dark Lord.

He felt guilt rise up, trying to swamp him, but he stamped it down.  He'd spent a long time last night thinking, and Harry's words, the one's Padfoot had given him, rang true.

There was no one to blame but Lord Voldemort.  And Draco was going to anything and everything in his power to help Harry – and Hermione – take that monster down.

"Oi'! Malfoy!  Do you plan to stand there all night?"

Weasley's words drew Draco back to the present.  He pasted on a smirk and spit out a comeback that came naturally after so many years of trading taunts back and forth.  An instant too late he felt himself wince as he realized now likely wasn't the time to act in such a manner.

"I don't know, Weasley, do you plan to lie there all night?"

An awkward silence descended on the sitting room for half a heartbeat before Weasley threw his head back and laughed.

"If it keeps me from doing any work, of course!"

Weasley's comment made the others relax and laugh.  The room filled with a comforting cheeriness.  Very similar to what he had felt that morning, as he'd opened gifts on Harry's bed.

The fire roared just then and his Aunt Andromeda stepped through.

Draco's heart stopped, he knew who was coming next.

And, sure enough, there he was.

Theo was dressed in rather simple robes that looked as if they had been altered to fit him.  His hair was neatly combed and he looked almost exactly like he had before.

That is, except for the black glove over his right hand.  Draco knew there was no flesh incased in that glove.

It was merely a metal hand that Theo was still learning to use and control.  

Draco's mouth was too dry to form words as he looked as his old childhood friend.  Searching his bony face for any sign of blame.  After all, Theo hadn't been about to be forced to get a mark.  It was Draco's words that had led to-

"Well, Draco, we sure rolled a long way, did we not?"

The lopsided smile on Theo's face released the tension in Draco's body just as much as the words did.

He smiled back and approached his friend, giving him a half-hug.  "Happy Christmas, Theo."

Theo returned the hug, "Happy Christmas, Draco."

They pulled away from each other and Draco realized everyone was staring at them.  He arched an eyebrow, "Is something the matter?"

"No, we're just all happy to see you two smile," Lovegood stated, giving him a small smile.

"Point."

Everyone spoke at once, except for Theo, who just looked confused.  Draco found himself grinning and pushing all negative thoughts away.

"Theo, let's go see if there's some butterbeer and I'll explain what sort of insanity I rolled you into."

That elicited chuckles from everyone as Draco led his fellow Slytherin out of the room.

XXX

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, Draco could feel everyone forcing themselves to push all negative thoughts away and enjoy the day.  

Bill Weasley was gifted a lovely box of Honeydukes chocolate for winning in 'Points'.  All of his siblings declared it wasn't fair.  They were positive that Fleur Delacour had helped him cheat.  She was, after all, his fiancée.  Buty she insisted she only gave him points when he was correct.  It wasn't her fault he was often correct.

Draco wisely stayed out of the argument.  He noticed the other non-Weasleys did the same.  The argument lasted all through dinner and was only stopped during pudding by Bill splitting his chocolate with all of his siblings.  From the knowing glances Draco could only assume this was what happened whenever a Weasley won.

He shook his head in puzzlement, he didn't understand large families.

It was a bit of a shock to his system when he was heading to the toilet and overheard his mother speaking with Aunt Andromeda and Mrs. Weasley.  His mother's voice was full of sorrow, and the other women could be heard murmuring words of comfort.  He'd felt like an interloper, pressing his ear to the door, so he'd walked away.

If his father had died in service to Lord Voldemort, rather than defying him, would anyone have comforted her?

Somehow, he couldn't see it.

When he'd returned to the sitting room he found Theo engaged in a game of wizarding chess with Weasley.  Hermione was engaged in a discussion on space verse time with Lovegood.  He absently noticed a notebook in front of the girls, one they occasionally wrote in.  Harry was sitting before the fire with the Weaslette, helping her clean and care for her broomstick.

He stood awkwardly in the doorway, not quite sure who to approach.  He had just made up his mind to go and watch the chess game when he caught a new voice coming from the kitchen.

Snape.

Curious he slipped back out into the corridor and we to stand outside the entryway to the small, almost-cramped kitchen.

It looked even more cramped with the chair that had been transfigured so that Padfoot could sit comfortably, without placing strain on his back.  Every legal adult was there, even his mother.  She was once again her collected, regal self.  No sign of the earlier weakness he'd heard through the door.

Snape was pacing back and forth in front of fire, agitation visible in every movement.

He had stumbled upon what had to be an Order meeting.  One his mother had been invited to.

He really had rolled a long way from where had started.

"Well, Snape, what's happening at Hogwarts?"  Mr. Weasley asked.

Snape grimaced, "The bloody Ministry is crawling all over the place.  Trying to find proof Dumbledore was behind what happened at Malfoy Manor.  They're trying to get all their aurors tested for confundous charms.  So far St. Mungos is being smart and reporting the truth.  Doesn't stop Fudge.  I heard from Pomfrey that Shacklebolt's been test six times in the past few days.  They're insane. I managed to remove anything important from the Headmaster's personal quarters and office before the officials arrived.  McGonagall is acting headmistress, and that may be all she can be for a while.  The board of governors is decimated.  Most were from old pureblood families that are now on the run.   Or a few were Order members that didn't make it.  You need at least seven members to install a new headmaster, we have three.  And one," he glared at Padfoot, "is too injured to even attend meetings."

Padfoot grimaced, but said nothing.  Draco knew he'd barely managed to make the trip to the Burrow.  It would be a bit before his muscles regrew.  Greyback had taken a massive chunk out of his shoulder.

"Severus, play nice," his mother admonished.  

"Indeed," Mrs. Weasley stated, eyeing the potions master suspiciously.  "We know you're a double agent.  Albus vouched for you before, and Narcissa does now.  Doesn't mean the rest of us trust you." 

Snape glared at the woman, but pushed on, "The Dark Lord has fled the British Isles with his few remaining Death Eaters.  I've been ordered to lie low and be ready at a moment's notice.  For what, I know not.  But I suspect it won't be pretty.  He shares one thing in common with the Ministry, and that is their anger at how quickly Miss Black got an article out after the battle."  He aimed a glare at Padfoot, and then Mother, "She should have been healing, not writing."

Mr. Lovegood cleared his throat, "I wrote the rough draft and read it to her.  She suggested changes and I did all the work.  We did not risk her health."

"Indeed."

Snape did not appear to believe him, and Draco understood why.  He'd been woken up to Hermione demanding the quill, wanting to do the writing herself.  For a moment he'd thought he'd still been dreaming.  It had been a wonderful, if confusing dream where Hermione kept telling him to be safe every time he took a bite of an apple.  But when he'd finished the apple she’d smiled and taken the core, transfiguring it into a shield.  After that she had demanded his quill and he'd been protesting that he didn't have one.  Thinking on it now, he wondered if it had anything to do with the link he'd unknowingly formed with her.

Luckily he hadn't said anything embarrassing when Mr. Lovegood had proven he'd been the one to give his daughter her stubbornness and refused to let Hermione do her own writing.

Mr. Lovegood opened his mouth to supposedly reiterate the fact that he had kept Hermione safe, but Draco saw a very tired Professor Lupin kick him under the table and shake his head.

He'd always thought the werewolf was a smart one.

"Do we know what the current international opinion is on You-Know-Who?" Fred (or George, Draco certainly couldn't tell them apart).  Draco frowned.  The Weasley twins were holding a notebook that looked remarkably similar to the one he'd seen lying between Hermione and Lovegood.

Something began to prickle at his mind.  A mystery he thought it would be in his best interests to uncover.

A dark-haired Asian man Draco didn't know answered, "He's certainly got no allies in Japan.  His talk of blood status reminds too many of things that nearly led us to ruin back during Grindlewald's time.  We're trying to rebuild ourselves, look to the future, not fall prey to mistakes of the past."

"He's got a few people in France that support him, but they do so very quietly.  Public opinion is with Harry and Hermione.  They love her articles.  My grandmother's been saving every one in a scrapbook.  Says she's witnessing history in the making," Alianore said.

Mr. Weasley spoke up, "Most of our international students are quite disgusted nothing's been done about You-Know-Who already.  I had a number of them come to me after the Battle of Malfoy Manor and offer their services in any way they can.  I think the cincher was the idea of child soldiers.  On both sides.  Those pictures Narcissa managed to get of the battle really opened some eyes."

"How did you manage to get pictures?" Tonks asked curiously.

His mother smiled one her Slytherin smiles (How had he never realized before what those smiles truly hid?) and simply stated, "I simply, oh, what was that phrase you used Arthur?  Bugged the room?"

Draco frowned, when he heard the word 'bug' he thought of-

He inwardly groaned and rolled his eyes.  Of course his mother had somehow managed to enlist Rita Skeeter.  Hadn't they been in the same year at Hogwarts?  Or were they a year apart?  Whatever, it was all the same in the end.

And with Lockhart recaptured that meant Skeeter would likely continue Voldemort’s 'memoirs', meaning she would be out of most fights and free to pursue all sorts of information.

It did make him wonder where the cameras had been hidden, though.

He heard his name and instantly focused back in on the conversation.

"-Draco and Theodore.  There will have to be some changes made in Slytherin if they are to be safe," Snape was saying.

"I believe they're in the sitting room," Aunt Andromeda said.  "Want me to get them?"

"No, I shall get them myself."

Draco turned and hurried down back into the sitting room.  He earned curious glances from the others as he quickly took a seat on the sofa next to Ron and tried to look like he'd been there all evening.

Snape entered a moment later, "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Nott, foll-"

"Don't call me that," Theo practically snapped.

The room lost its cheeriness and began to feel a bit cold.

"Excuse me?" Snape practically hissed.

Draco saw trepidation in his old friend's eyes, but he still raised his chin and met the Potion Master's eyes, "Don't call me Mr. Nott.  That's the name of the man that tried to murder me."

The two Slytherins stared at each other and the entire room held their breath.  Finally, Snape nodded, "Very well.  Mr. Malfoy, Theodore, follow me."

He turned and swept out of the room, his cloak billowing behind him.

Draco scrambled to his feet and followed, Theo right beside him.

Snape led them upstairs and they entered a small room that had obviously once belonged to one of the older boys, but had been sort of repurposed as a guest room.  Draco guessed the pictures of dangerous looking dragons had been permanently stuck there.  Either that, or Mrs. Weasley couldn't stand to tear them down.

The more he thought on the little he'd seen of the woman over the past few days, the more he thought it was the latter option.

Snape pointed at the small, neatly made bed, "Sit."

He studied their faces for a moment and then let out a small sigh and pulled out the rickety desk chair and took a seat.  It wobbled dangerously, but held firm.

"I suspect, that the Hogwarts you return to shall be different from the one you left.  In your own dormitory you'll find Vincent Crabbe gone.  He's currently in Azkaban awaiting trial.  There's a very good chance he'll merely be suspended for a year, like Cormac Mclaggen was.  He performed no dark curses with his wand and had family pressure.  Between this and the fact that Gregory Goyle has disappeared, along with his entire family, means that your dormitory will only contain the two of you and Blaise Zabini.  I understand that you, Theodore, are good friends with him, but I want you to be careful.  The Zabini family's loyalties have always remained with those that will grant them the most rewards.  I want you two to watch your words around him, understand?"

Draco nodded, and could see Theo nodding beside him.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, if you could go, I need to speak with Theodore.  Unless you have a question?"

The Potions Master stared at him, his black eyes glittering dangerously, and Draco shook his head and stood up.

As soon as he was out of the door he pressed his ear to it, but all he heard was a faint buzzing.

Annoyed, he turned to go back downstairs, but was stopped as his arm was grabbed, and, before he could even make a move for his wand he was yanked inside of another bedroom.  

He stumbled as he was practically thrown into the room.  Somehow he managed to right himself and pull out his wand as he spun around.  Inwardly he thought that Alianore would be quite proud of this complicated movement.

Still, she'd likely say he was dead.

Because, standing there, behind a silently closed door, was Hermione.  Gone was the look of happy enjoyment she'd had all morning and afternoon.  In its place was a very determined look that sent a tingle down his spine.

And he didn't think that tingle was fear, either.

Still, the words out of her mouth surprised him.

"Well, Draco, what did Snape want?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's a cliffhanger, but the good news you only have to wait half a week this time. And, this was a nice, happy chapter.
> 
> Right?
> 
> A nice break from the last few chapters.


	37. Long Overdue Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco get some things out of the way. As do Draco and Theo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've separated this fic into two books, though it is staying as a single fic.
> 
> Book 1: Childhood - Ch. 1 - 33  
> Book 2: Adulthood - Ch. 34 - ??

Hermione frowned and looked up as Snape led Draco and Theo out of the sitting room.  Just what did he want to speak about?

She closed her journal and reattached her brand new traveling quill to it.  She jerked her head at the door and Luna nodded.  As soon as the three Slytherins were gone she moved over to the sofa and settled herself next to Ron while Hermione made her way out of the room.

She silently crept up the stairs, wincing as newly healed skin stretched with each step.  

Being splinched on the back of the thigh was a terrible place.  The muscle had knit back together nicely, but the skin pulled whenever she went up steps, despite the cream Snape had left for her.  She'd also been splinched on the left shoulder, but that didn't impede movement as much while it healed.

The door to Charlie's old room was closed and she pressed her ear to it, but only heard buzzing.  She frowned and grumbled under breath.

"Stupid bloody Slytherins.  Using spells I can't identify.  What's wrong with normal silencing spells?"

Annoyed, she slipped into Bill's old room across the hall and closed the door most of the way.  Maybe they'd say something when the door opened.

She didn't have to wait long before Draco slipped out.  She watched as he put his own ear to the door before frowning in annoyance.

She couldn't help but smile at that expression, and she couldn't really say why.

She silently swung the door farther open and reached out, snagging Draco and yanking him into the room before quietly shutting the door again.  With a few flicks of her wand and whispered spells the door was locked and the room was under a silencing spell.

She was surprised to note that her typical locking spell felt stronger than normal.

Curious, but with other things on her mind, she set that thought aside for later and turned around tp look at Draco, who now stood in a modified classic dueling stance, his wand aimed at her.  Gone was the spoiled little boy she used to know, or even the confused and rather bumbling teen he'd been but a few weeks before.

No, now he looked calm and confident.  His pale hair - in bad need of a haircut - fell across his aristocratic brow, slightly covering one glittering silver eye.

Her stomach did a flip as she met his gaze.  She tried to push the feeling away, but unlike before, it refused to go far even as she got down to business.

"Well, Draco.  What did Snape want?"

He studied her for half a second, then relaxed and slipped his wand back up his sleeve.  She watched the way his wrist twisted and noticed with interest that he used the same method as Alianore Roux.  

"You really should have been in Ravenclaw."

Her brows lowered in annoyance, "Draco..."

That made him smirk, "He was just giving Theo and me some warnings about Hogwarts and Slytherin House.  Theo and I rather publically declared which side we're on and a number of people will take issue with that."

She studied him, taking in the tenseness at the corners of his mouth, even as his posture was relaxed.

"Is it really safe for you two there?"

He shrugged and looked away, inspecting a poster of the Weird Sisters.  

"As safe as it was for Pansy, I suppose."

"Pansy's family has always been on the fence.  Yours wasn't."

He shrugged again and went over to the window, looking out at the snow covered English countryside.  "Point.  But we also have Snape as head of house.  He's playing both sides.  He can't allow anything permeant to happen to either side on his watch. Besides, I know he's really against Lord Voldemort."

She frowned, while she'd never much cared for Snape, she was sure he was on their side, not that she had proof.  It was just all the things she'd heard about Harry's mother and Snape from Uncle Remus.  She didn't have all the information yet, but she had sketched out a rough outline.  She guessed Snape had never expected his new master to go kill his old childhood friend - even if they were on the outs.

"How do you know for sure?"

He looked over his shoulder at her, then quickly looked back out at the snow, she saw his fists clench on the window sill.

Draco's next words came out in a single breath - almost.

"Hesawmeresearchingandgaveme-" he paused, nothing escaping his mouth for a moment, then he took a deep breath.  "I was given a thing.  It had a cure.  Harry found me preparing last May.  He slipped me into St. Mungos and-"

But she wasn't listening anymore.

A cure.

St. Mungos.

The silver dragon.

Dragon.

Draco.

Draco had snuck into St. Mungos, risking his life and his family's lives, to cure her.  To save her life.  And Snape had given him the tools to do so.  She was guessing from a family tome.

Her mind flashed back to that old, battered tea set and its fading monogram in Snape's office.

Snape wasn't an old wizarding family name, but his father had been muggle.  His mother wouldn't have tied her magic.  And tomes followed the family magic, not the name.

His mother must have been the last of her line.  Making Snape the holder of the tomes.

And he'd lent the tome to Draco.

So he could cure her.

So he could risk everything to save her life.

The idea rocked her world.  She felt everything twist and turn.  

She'd risked everything to save his mother, never expecting him to do the same, never knowing that he had already risked everything.

Risked everything and never told a soul.  She was even guessing he'd told Harry never to tell.  And Harry was honorable enough to keep that trust.

She realized Draco was still speaking, even as she struggled to form words

"-that's why I avoided you after the train.  How could I hurt you by being around?  I was the nephew of the woman that tortured you and killed your parents.  A constant reminder of-"

Hermione felt her promise with him twinge, as he spoke about that nasty woman without actually naming her.  She’d almost forgotten about their long ago promise.  She quickly cut him off.  "Tonks is her niece.  Aunt Andy is almost her doppelganger.  Padfoot has the same hair.  Merlin, I have the same hair!  Of all of us, you look the least like her!  All you have is her aristocratic nose!  How-how could you think avoiding me was the way to go!?!"

He swung back around to face her.  His mouth was hanging open, cut off in mid-sentence and his face was flushed red.  His eyes glittered, looking like the small silver earrings Padfoot had given her for her birthday last year.  He snapped his mouth shut and swallowed nervously, "Um, well, that's why I went chasing after you that day my hand was broken.  I realized just how idiotic my avoiding you was and, um, well..."

He stopped talking and looked down.

She sighed and fought the urge to roll her eyes.  

Honestly.

"Let me get this straight.  You risked everything to heal me after refusing to go with me to save Harry.  You learned of my scars and set about avoiding me so as not to cause me pain.  Then you realized that avoiding me was a mistake and, in trying to rectify it, you got your hand broken.  After chasing me through t halls of Hogwarts.  THEN you basically signed your own death warrant by defying the Dark Lord and refusing to get the mark.  The mark he tried to give you after seeing something in Crabbe's mind that made him doubt your potential loyalty.  I'm guessing now it's about your previous actions towards me. Yes," she said as his face grew surprised, "I heard about what actually occured during the Death Eater meeting from your mother.  Didn't you read the article I wrote?"

He nodded.

She shook her head in disbelief even as she scrabbled for purchase in this new, shifting world.

"Why?  What changed?  Just two years ago you called me a mudblood!"

He shrugged and looked down at his feet for a moment before straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath. Then he looked up and met her eyes, she felt herself sinking into those shimmering, silver depths.

"I changed.  I don't know how.  I don't know why.  But I went from disliking you to respecting you.  Somewhere even that changed.  I think it started when I watched you jump out that window.  But I didn't truly realize it until you were helping me to the hospital wing when my hand was broken.  I respect you, I like you, I can't help but admire you.  Your blood doesn't matter.  Hell, nothing matters but that I view you as a friend, even if it's one-sided.  Though I don't think so anymore.  Not after the last five days.  And with what my mother told me last night...well, I think we're stuck with each other in some form or another."

"Wait, what did your mother say last night?"

He stared blankly at her for a moment, then his skin - somehow - grew even redder.

"Oh, um, I didn't mention that?"

She shook her head.

He leaned back against the window and buried his face in his hands.  She noticed his nails were also getting a little long and needed a good file.  That and his hair were the only signs of grief she could see him displaying about his father.  Maybe there would be more at the funeral, but that wouldn't occur until the Ministry released the bodies.

"I learned some of this when my father picked me up from Kings Cross back at the beginning of break.  I had no clue it had already occurred, until my mother told me last night.  But apparently the Malfoy magic curse is that we always crave more power.  To the point where we willingly, and possibly unknowingly, tie ourselves to someone powerful.  This can be magical or mental power.  Doesn't matter as long as we respect and admire them.  Like I respect and admire you."

She stared at him, once again in shock, her brain attempting to make sense of the words she had just heard.

"You-you're tied to me?!?!"

He simply nodded, not removing his hands from his face.

"From what I know, it's mostly one sided.  I can't ever hurt or defy you, except in extreme cases. Like-like with my father.  And Voldemort."

"Your father.  He was tied to Voldemort?”

Draco nodded, and lowered his hands, "Yes."

"But the tie broke when Voldemort tried to kill you."

Draco nodded again, looking miserable.

"What-what does this tie entail?"

He shrugged, "I don't know exactly.  Everyone has been rather vague on it.  But I think it's different for everyone.  I know Harry found me last night through his connection to you.  And your connection to me."

Hermione let that sink in, then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her mind clear.

There was her link to Harry, strongly held in place, connecting their souls together.  But, when she looked around now she found a fainter chain, one barely visible in her mind, but much thicker the farther she followed it.

A moment later she was in a new place, in a mind that was not Harry's.  It was, in fact, quite different from her brother’s.

For a moment she saw herself out of his eyes.  Her view was filtered through his mind and so she saw - to a degree - his own view of her.

She was beautiful.  Her hair was lying in ebony waves around her shoulders, almost sparking with power.  Her brown eyes glittered with emotion and her stance spoke of self-confidence and pride in her abilities.  Even her conservative robes did nothing to lesson his appreciation of her figure.

She yanked back in shock.  Breaking her connection to his eyes, but still staying in his mind.  She was unable to comprehend the idea that someone as good-looking as Draco would see her as beautiful.

_This-this is unbelievable…”_

His mind gave a shudder, then relaxed.

_You're speaking in my mind._

_You can hear me?  Harry and I can only use images._

Her inner Ravenclaw began to take over, and she pushed back her uneasy feelings, trying to accept this new development.  It wasn't like her life had ever been normal.  And she had likely read his view of her wrong.  Perhaps it was just teenage thing she’d read about in that muggle medicine book.  What was it? Hormones?  Yes, that was it. He couldn’t really think she was beautiful.  Not after seeing her scars.  

_I wonder how far away this works._

_How about you go upstairs and I go down?  Later we can floo back to your cottage at different times and check again._

She pulled back along the link, noticing it looked a bit like a chain, and that her end was now thicker and more visible.

When she opened her eyes her gaze immediately met Draco's.

"I don't think my father could do that."

She shuddered, "Harry had Voldemort in his mind for a bit. It was very unpleasant.  I think your father would have mentioned if that was part of his chain.  In fact..."

Thoughts tumbled through her mind, trying to find a place, but just making her normally tidy mind messy and disorganized.  

Thoughts of chains, links, minds, connecting, and, finally, anchors whipped through.  She remembered the work she had done on wands and the description Harry had given her of his time in Voldemort's head.  The confession of his previously haunted dreams, and how they had stopped just five days ago, after haunting him almost every night for the past few months.  Something she was still annoyed about, as he had never shared this information with her.

She needed to do some research.

And she didn't think the Hogwarts library would contain what she needed.  The Malfoy library might, but the Ministry had the entire estate locked down as they did their 'investigation'.

And there was no way anyone would let her go to Knockturn Alley right now.  Not after her recent article and the part she had played in the Malfoy Manor Battle.

No.  She needed help.  And that meant having a real meeting.

"Change of plans.  You go upstairs.  Ron's room is on the top floor.  It's messy with Chudley Cannon posters on the wall.  We'll test the link and then I'll bring the others upstairs.  I think it’s time to pool resources and figure some things out.  We’ll continue our talk on chains later.  You’re one of us now, I might as well equip you."

He frowned in puzzlement, but before he could reply she hurried out of the room, taking down her spells as she went.

A small part of her mind wondered if the strength of the locking spells was because she had already somehow suspected that Draco was tied to her.  After all, if he was tied to her that meant he was partly hers.

And she protected what was hers.

No matter what.

XXX

Draco watched Hermione run out of the room and felt a bit of Deja vu.  How many times now had he watched her run off now?

Still, this time was different.  He knew she was coming back.

Also, he could feel her there, at the end of the chain.  The weight was like a magical reminder of the agreement he'd made with Harry to stop Voldemort.  A comfort, knowing that there were others out there, guarding his back as he guarded theirs.  That he wasn't alone like his father had been.

As he left the bedroom the door across the hall opened and Snape emerged.  He looked down his hooked nose at Draco and let out a small sound that was almost a sigh.

"Mr. Malfoy, you've got a good friend in Theodore."

Then he was gone, disappearing down the stairs in a swirl of black.  Draco watched him disappear around the corner at the landing then entered the small bedroom to see Theo still sitting on the bed, an indescribable expression on his face.

Draco tested out the link with Hermione and sent a quick thought her way.

_Need to talk to Theo.  Then will go up._

Her response was instantaneous.

_Okay.  Bring him up with you._

Draco sat down next to his old friend and found himself wondering when they had stopped being close.  The two of them had been almost inseparable growing up. They had always done everything together.  There wasn’t a day that went by that Draco didn’t remember seeing Theo or sharing letters with him.

Well, not a day went by until a week before Draco’s eighth birthday, when Theo’s mother had died.

Draco still remembered Theo coming to his party.  Theo breaking out into tears when he’d seen Draco receiving a hug from his mother.  Theo angrily grabbing his gift and storming over to the floo before it could be opened.  The sound of his best friend flooing away.

They hadn’t spoken a word to each other again until they found each other sharing the Slytherin dorm.  They’d pretended they’d never been friends.  That they’d only moved in the same circles.  Draco had Pansy, Vince and Greg.  Theo had Tracey, Daphne and Blaise.

But, now, here they were, once more together.  No one else around.

Theo’s friends were safe and still his friends.  Tracey, Daphne and Blaise off with their families, not connected at all to the battle that had occurred so recently.

Draco’s were spread to the wind.  Vince was in Ministry custody, about to go to trial, perhaps even be expelled from Hogwarts and locked up in Azkaban.  Greg was Merlin knew where, grabbed by his parents and taken along as they fled after Voldemort.  Pansy was trapped in her own mind, under a curse Draco knew had a cure, but that did not lessen the danger of it.

Skilled Mind-Healers were entering her mind every hour, obliterating nightmares even as they threatened to drive her insane.  He supposed that he should send Skeeter a thank you note, her previous attack on Pansy and the necessary work to fix it was making the current process easier.  But they still didn't know how she would be when the last nightmare was destroyed.

Pushing thoughts of Pansy out of his head he broke the silence.

"Snape says I'm lucky to have you as a friend."

Theo held up his arm and stared at the metal hand he had covered in a black leather glove.  He twisted the hand this way and that, looking at every angle.  Finally, he spoke.

"You know, I used to be jealous of you.  Still am."

Draco felt uncomfortable.  Of course Theo was jealous. He'd lost his mother at a young age, Draco still had his. Theo's father had tried to kill him, Draco's had died for him.  Draco had two hands, Theo only one.

Draco would be jealous, too.  Hadn't he been jealous of Harry and all his friends?

"I don't blame you."

Theo snorted, "Of course you don't.  We're too alike not to understand each other.  You did get my apple conversation, after all."

Now it was Draco's turn to snort, "You weren't exactly subtle.  I wondered if you were really a Slytherin after that conversation."

"Hey!" Theo bumped his shoulder roughly against Draco, "I didn't know how much those Gryffindors had rubbed off on you!  I had to tone down the subtlety!"

Draco bumped him back, "Liar."

"Fine, be that way," Theo said in a tone that made the past decade disappear.  For a moment the two of them were once again six years old and arguing over which toys would join their army in the epic battle they were orchestrating.

Draco smiled, "So, are we actual friends again?  Or do we go back to how we treated each other at Hogwarts?"

Theo shook his head and turned it enough to look at Draco, "We can't go back to that.  Not after all of this."  He waved his metal hand around the room, taking in the decor that was nothing at all like they had grown up with.

"Point," Draco said automatically.

_Draco.  Change of plans.  Ron can't move.  Come down and we'll test later._

_Alright._

"That whole point thing is really odd."

Draco snorted, "I thought so too at first, but it's grown on me.  Now, do you want to share what Snape said?  Or should we head back downstairs?"

"Basics is that Snape is going to spend a lot of time with me this semester.  Trying to get me to see the 'error' of my ways."

Draco's eyebrows rose, "Really?  Why couldn't he say that in front of me?"

Theo shrugged and looked away, "Dunno."

Draco instantly backed off, afraid to ruin this new start to a friendship.  "Alright, well, let's go on down."

"Why the rush?" Theo asked even as he stood up and followed Draco.

"Hermione said something about a meeting and getting us equipped."

"Equipped?  With what?"

"No idea, but it's sure to be good."

“Point,” Theo said, making Draco laugh.  Theo had always caught on quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, the long awaited talk between them. As well as a surprise discussion between Theo and Draco. Sad that it took the death of Draco's father for them to reconnect. 
> 
> Also, thank you so much everyone for all the good vibes over the past few days in reviews and comments. Ya'll are truly amazing readers and I couldn't be more lucky. Thank you.


	38. Joining Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Theo find themselves joining the New Maurauders, bringing the total members up to eleven. Harry learns a terrible secret.

As soon as Draco and Theo stepped into the sitting room the door swung shut and several spells shot out of Hermione's wand as she spoke.

"Now that we're all here - minus Fred, who is keeping an eye on the Order and Neville, who is at home.  And they both have their journals open - we can get down to business."

Weasley sighed, "And here I was hoping to just enjoy Christmas."

The Weaselette snorted, "Grow up big brother, the war won't pause just so you can enjoy your pudding."

Weasley threw a pillow at her, but she easily caught it, “Hmm, maybe I should be the Gryffindor Keeper.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at this, “Grow up you two.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison, making everyone laugh, though the two youngest Weasleys glared at each other instead.

"From what Snape said the Ministry is working overtime to regain control of things," George said, trying to draw everyone back on topic.  And Draco was fairly certain it was George, since Hermione had said Fred was in the kitchen.  "They're crawling all over Hogwarts, sending their aurors in for mental and magical health checks, and refusing to release bodies."

Weasley frowned, "Have you talked to Percy recently?  Did he say anything at the meeting?"

George shook his head, "No, that git is trying to walk a narrow line.  He's refusing to release anything that isn't currently public knowledge.  He did say something about emergency procedures available if the Board of Governors can't instate a new headmaster or headmistress, but clammed up after that."

Hermione interjected, "We'll worry about that later, or let the Order deal with it.  I had a breakthrough when speaking with Draco earlier about the oddities of his family magic.  Now," she took a deep breath and hurrying on before anyone could ask what oddities were part of Draco’s family magic, "I was told by Dumbledore, Padfoot, and Uncle Remus not to reveal this unless I thought it absolutely necessary.  Well, now I believe it is necessary.  Several years ago I learned - quite by accident - that Voldemort had anchored himself to this world in some dark manner.  I haven't been able to find a name for the anchors, but I know he had to give part of himself to make them because-"

"Horcruxes," George said grimly.  "They're called horcruxes.  The Order was arguing about them a few months ago, so Fred and I did some research down on Knockturn Alley.  Creating one involves deliberate murder and splitting your soul.  Then you put the soul in an object.  Apparently Voldemort had five, but he planned on six. That way he would have seven soul pieces if you count his original body and all six objects.”

"Or a living being," Hermione stated.

George frowned, "No, the books said nothing about living beings."

Draco noticed that Luna was hastily scribbling in a journal very similar to the one Hermione had earlier.  Were they a communication device?

"Fred asks what being you think has a horcrux," Luna said, not looking up.

"The snake," Hermione answered, "it explains why Voldemort was able to control it so directly when it killed Dumbledore."

Harry gasped and everyone turned to look at him.

"Mate, what's wrong?" Ron asked, looking concerned.

"The not-place... The twisted creatures... I saw the pieces of Voldemort's soul!  There was one attached to me!!!"

His eyes were beginning to fill with panic and Hermione immediately jumped up and ran to hug him, Draco could hear her humming and, curious, he closed his eyes and followed the chain to Hermione, from there he traced another link to Harry.  It was hard going, but when he got there he was immediately surrounded by pleasant images of the two Gryffindors' childhood together.  Getting an idea he threw up one of his own memories of Harry, of the boy denying Draco's friendship and staying true to the Weasleys.

He felt Harry's surprise at a new presence in his mind, but he relaxed almost immediately and then Draco felt Hermione pull out.  He quickly followed her and, on the way back to his own mind, he heard her whisper,  _ Thank you, but please stay out of Harry’s mind unless invited.  Especially if I’m there. _

A minor wave of shame and hurt swept over Draco, along with a touch of anger, but he pushed it down.  She was right, though he hated to admit it.  He shouldn’t go poking his nose in private places unless invited.

When his eyes opened again he saw that Hermione was no longer hugging Harry, rather, the Weaselette was there, her arms wrapped around his waist, her head tucked under his chin. Hermione was, instead, standing over near him, if he reached out he could touch her shoulder.  He had the sudden urge to do so, and his arm was raised halfway before he realized what he was doing.  He quickly lowered his arm, hoping no one had noticed.

"No, Harry, I don't think you're a horcrux anymore," Hermione said firmly.  "I think, from what you told me and the sudden change in dreams, that for that single instant you were merged so tightly with Voldemort and the snake that you were practically one being.  The deliberate death of Dumbledore, which the snake and three Voldemort soul pieces fully supported, acted as the chance for a soul to split.  But, this time, with the help of the blood wards connecting us, you managed to detach your soul from the horcrux.  You sent it towards the snake instead. Or so I’m assuming from your description, though you could have sent it back to Voldemort himself.”

Everyone stared at her, the room was entirely silent except for the sound of the fire crackling in the grate.  Draco was trying to wrap his mind around all of the information that had just come his way.

“So, we kill the snake and Voldemort can die?” Ginny asked.

“Unless he’s made another horcrux,” George answered.

Harry shook his head, “I-I don’t think he made another horcrux.  Before, when I had part of him inside of me, I kept having dreams of a long corridor and a room of glass orbs.  It felt more like he wanted information, rather than immortality.”

“You were dreaming of the Hall of Prophecy,” George said.  “The Order has been guarding it for months now.  Apparently there’s a prophecy about you and old no-nose.  He’s only heard part of it and wants the rest.  Problem is, only two people can retrieve it, and one of them is in this room.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up, “Who wants to sneak into the Ministry?”

Ron groaned, “Can’t I heal from our last adventure before we start a new one?”

“Indeed,” Draco found himself saying.  Not that he would classify what happened five days ago as an ‘adventure’.

Hermione frowned, “No, we need that prophecy and we need to get it before we get sent back to Hogwarts.  I suggest tonight.  Very few will be working today and most of them will be off at Hogwarts leaving no stone unturned,” she rolled her eyes at the last bit, and Draco couldn’t blame her.  Honestly, the Ministry was proving to be even more stupid than he thought possible.

“Well, if we do that I have to go, obviously,” Harry said.

Ron frowned, “You shouldn’t bring more than two or three others in with you I think.  Everyone else can be standing by with their coins, ready to rush in as backup.  I’ll run interference with the older generation.  Think I’ll need support though.”

“I’ll stay with you.  I’m not much use till I learn to use this properly.” Theo held up his right hand, the black leather gleaming in the firelight.

“Neville is out,” said Luna.  “He doesn’t think he can concentrate properly until Pansy wakes up.”

“Harry isn’t leaving my sight,” the Weaselette said firmly.”

“I’ll go with,” said George, “Fred can be backup.”

“Fred disagrees,” said Luna, “says it’s your turn to play backup.”

George frowned and thought.

“Hmm, maybe he’s right.  He did play wingman last time we were at the Twisting Wands…”

Hermione rolled her eyes again and Draco couldn’t help but wonder how many times the Weasleys had caused her to do so.  He wondered if he’d ever be the one to make her roll her eyes.  The idea gave him a warm fuzzy feeling that left him rather confused.

“I’ll also go with,” Hermione said.  “We can easily floo there, but we need a good excuse for not being home.  The Order meeting can’t last forever.”

“Quidditch,” Luna said.

Everyone turned to stare at her.  She shrugged, “Go play quidditch at the Academy.  The four of you can slip out, run to the Department of Mysteries, and come back.  Theo and Ron can stay here and play chess.”

Hermione frowned, “Luna, you and I never play quidditch.”

She smiled, “Yes, but we can pretend, and they’ll assume we mean to sneak in and raid the Academy library.  Alianore caught me in there last week.  Before the battle.”

“That actually might work,” Harry said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.  There was no more panic in his face, now it was filled with purpose.

“So, Ginny, Hermione, George - or Fred - and Harry will sneak in.  Theo and I will stay here and play chess, keeping an eye on the floo.  Luna, Fred - or George - and Draco will provide backup.  Sounds like a solid backbone of a plan,” Weasley said, looking thoughtful.

“Um, I think we’re forgetting something,” the Weaselette said.

Everyone looked at her.

“What?” Weasley asked.

“Are you sure?” Hermione said.

“Sounded like everything to me,” George said.

Now the Weaselette rolled her eyes.  “Honestly.  All of us have been friends since we were practically in nappies.  We know we’re all in this together.  But Malfoy and No- Theodore are new.  Harry made a conscious choice and offer to Pansy to join us.  Aren’t we going to actually ask them if they want to be part of this?  Instead of assuming?”

Draco suddenly had every pair of eyes trained on him for a moment, before they slid over to Theo and then back again.

“Well?” George said.  “Do you want to join us in our continued defiance of the Ministry and all Death Eaters?”

Draco looked over at Theo, noticing a mirrored look of surprise, glad he wasn’t the only one that didn’t expect to actually be asked to join their group.

“What are you, anyways?”  Theo asked.

“Indeed, I thought you were just friends, not anything organized,” Draco added.

George chuckled, “Well, we are friends, but thanks to Hermione I think we can call ourselves a little club now, though we have no official name.  Personally, Fred and I like the New Marauders.”

“Speaking of organized…” Hermione grabbed a drawstring bag that looked eerily similar to the one Pansy had been carrying around all last term.

She reached in and pulled out two more drawstring bags, two journals, and two galleons. “I made extras, since you just never know.  Here,” she handed one of each item to Draco, then gave the others to Theo. “The coin can be used to communicate it in emergencies.  It heats up when used, so be careful.  The books are all connected, we can chat with each other that way, using call signs.  The bags are truly bottomless.  Just put your hand in and think of what you want.  As long as it’s in there it will come to your hand.  The opening expands for larger items.”

“Like so,” the Weaselette said, she pulled her own drawstring bag off her belt and reached in to pull out her broomstick.

Draco held up the bag, his eyes wide in amazement, “You actually made a truly bottomless bag?”

“Yes, she did, and Fred and I have the full rights to sell them, as well as the twin journals once the war ends,” George said proudly.

“But the ones they sell will only connect with one to three other journals.  These ones connect with any journal I tell them to,” Hermione said, a trace of pride in her voice and a glimmer in her eyes that made her entire face shine.

“You need call signs,” Luna stated.  “I think Dragon is good for Draco, and as for Theodore I think-”

“Apple,” Theo said firmly.

“Apple?” Harry asked curiously.

Theo met Draco’s gaze, a steely coldness visible that had never before shown itself, “Yes, Apple.”

“Very well, Apple for Theodore.  Does Dragon work for you, Draco?” Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged, not really caring, “It’s fine.”

“Alright, I think it’s fitting,” she sent a glare at Harry and Draco saw the other boy turn a bit red and look away.  Obviously realizing that Hermione had finally learned what her vision in St. Mungos meant.

“Now that’s settled, let’s get to planning,” Weasley said.  “It’s nearly seven and you can’t play quidditch too late.  Apple, you’re with me, we’ll keep a journal open, feel free to write if help is needed.  We can round up the Order if it’s absolutely necessary.  Gred, Phoenix, Prongslet and Ginger will sneak in and steal the prophecy.  Use the cloak to make sure the way is clear before everyone moves in.  And Gred will come supplied with some of your new products, right?”

He looked at George, who nodded, “Of course.”

“Moon, Forge, and Dragon, you keep a journal open and wait at the Academy.  Make enough noise no one realizes there isn’t a real quidditch game going on.  Grass will, of course, be sitting this one out due to Snake’s condition.  Sound good?”

Everyone nodded, though Draco heard the Weaselette mutter under her breath, “Ron really relishes being King…”

“I heard that!” Weasley said, trying to throw another pillow at the Weaselette, but finding that Hermione had put all of them out of his reach.  He settled for sticking his tongue out at her before getting back to business.  “Now, let’s see about working out any details.  I think-”

Draco tuned the red-head out.  He may regret it later, but he would just do whatever Luna (When had he stopped thinking of her as Lovegood?  And why?) told him to do.  Really, he just wanted to support Harry and Hermione in their goal to rid the world of snake-face.  Details didn’t matter.

He just wanted revenge for his father’s magical chaining and death.

He found it interesting that while Hermione had instigated the raid on the Ministry, it was Weasley who was planning the details.  

And Harry was doing nothing but nodding along and occasionally sharing details from his dream visions.

This group really wasn’t what he had ever imagined it to be - and he had imagined it quite a lot.  Especially after Pansy joined them.

And now he was a part of it.

A scary thought, but one that left him with a comfortably warm feeling in his chest, soothing the pain and guilt he still felt over his father’s death and Pansy and Theo’s injuries.

He was part of it.

An idea formed in his head.

_ Hermione, we need to share that we can communicate. _

_ But, do you really want them knowing your weakness? _

He couldn’t help but laugh, drawing everyone’s eyes and making respond out loud.

“Hermione, I’m chained to you.  How is that a weakness?”

Her soft brown eyes met his and she blinked owlishly for a moment.  Then she laughed herself, “Point.”

Everyone looked terribly confused.

“Care to explain what’s going on?” Weasley asked.

It was Harry that spoke, “Malfoy family magic forces you to magically chain yourself to someone powerful that you admire.  Draco is chained to Hermione.  I’m guessing they’ve found a benefit of it.”

Hermione’s chuckles drifted away, “Yes.  We can speak mind to mind.  Similar to my connection with Harry, but also different.”

“Wait, you can talk to Potter in your head?  And now Draco?  How is that fair?!?”  Theo exclaimed.

“It’s not,” the Weaslette said.

Really, he needed to not call her that.  It wasn’t particularly flattering and he’d already stopped calling her brother Weasel.  And she certainly ranked higher on his list than her brother.

“It’s a long and complicated story.  At least for Harry and Hermione.  I’ll explain it while they’re on the mission, “ Weasley said.

Theo nodded as Weasley turned his attention back to Draco.

“So, if you two can speak mind-to-mind that means we must adjust things accordingly.”

And he went off again, changing things up.  Draco sighed and found a chair to sit in.  He wondered if anything would actually faze this group.

Because it sure didn’t seem like it.

And he knew that couldn’t be real.  Everyone had a limit on how much ‘weirdness’ they could take.  And when this group reached it’s limit...he really hoped he lived through that - because it would not be pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of talking, no action, but the next chapter makes up for it. And, yes, no private time for Dramione, but you're about to get lots of it. So don't worry.
> 
> Also, yes, I did have Harry get rid of the horcrux, with the help of the blood wards. Someone on FFN guessed it. So, kudos to potter-centric!


	39. The Department of Mysteries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Marauders go after the prophecy.

Hermione closed her eyes and followed the line to Harry's mind, looking out of his eyes. An empty atrium lay before him, even the fountain lay silent in the darkness.

"All clear, let's go."

Ginny and Fred grabbed floo powder and disappeared through the flames. She grabbed her own powder, but paused before throwing it in. Her eyes went to Draco and she found herself wondering just when he had become so appealing to look at.

She soaked in his appearance and said, "I'll stay in contact."

The other three nodded and a faint smile appeared on Draco's face. Hermione wasn't sure if it was the magical chain or something else, but his smile made her feel extra secure, knowing he was here to play backup.

She felt her own lips twist upwards in response as she threw the powder in and said, "Ministry of Magic Atrium."

A heartbeat later she was once again with Fred and Ginny. A quick check showed her Harry was by the lifts and that no one was around.

"Move out, lifts are clear."

They moved, their wands out and at the ready. She sent a quick thought to Draco.

_Lifts and Atrium clear. Moving down._

_Got it._

Harry went down first, under the invisibility cloak. She waited nervously with Fred and Ginny, her hand growing sweatier the longer it took for a response.

Finally, she felt him send her an image of an empty corridor.

She reached out and pushed the button.

They began to descend.

Silence reigned in the small lift. They'd agreed to speak only when absolutely necessary. Made it easier to hear someone else. Voldemort may be on the run, but they didn't know if he still had someone watching the Department of Mysteries. Also, the Order had a guard outside. Fred thought it was Alianore's assistant, Tachiki, but he wasn't sure. Moody occasionally (and randomly) secretly observed the watches. And his eye could see through Harry's cloak.

If Moody was there…

Well, Hermione had some rather convincing arguments planned, but Moody was hard to get a handle on.

Too bloody paranoid.

The lift doors opened and the three of them moved out, Fred in the lead. Ron's hope was that if someone attacked they would see Fred as the biggest threat and focus on him. Allowing Ginny and Hermione to take the attacker down.

Not a bad plan in Hermione's mind. But then, there was a reason Ron was unbeatable in chess. He didn't have much use for research or book learning like she did, but he certainly knew how to analyze a situation.

Harry sent her an image of an empty corridor. She looked at it and then sent back another image of the corridor, this time with Tachiki standing at the end, on the left, just past a glowing green light.

It was the most logical place for a defensive dueler like him to stand.

A moment later a shout erupted and darkness enveloped the entire floor.

Harry must have used the entire package of Peruvian Instant Darkness that the twins had given him.

She ran forwards and listened closely. She could feel Harry ahead and off to her left a bit.

There.

A rustle of cloth as a wind started up.

Tachiki had to be trying to clear out the darkness.

She slid forwards, feeling her thigh protest as she stretched her new skin as far as it would go. Reaching out, her left hand closed on silk.

None of them were wearing silk.

A spell flashed through her mind and red light, just barely visible, flew out of her wand. It only had to travel about six inches and it hit her target.

Instantly she felt the weight at the end of the silk fall.

She froze, listening in the darkness. When there was no more sound she let go of the silk and reached into her pocket. She tossed some of the powder there into the air and watched as the darkness begin to swirl before her eyes.

When it cleared, she gasped in shock.

It was not Tachiki lying before her. Rather there was a man she knew she had seen around the Ministry, but didn't know the name of him. He had an invisibility cloak lying beside him. She reached down and rolled up the left sleeve to reveal a Dark Mark.

"Tachiki is here," Ginny said.

Hermione looked over to see both redheads standing over the prone and half-invisible form of Tachiki.

"We need to hurry," Harry said.

"But first…" Fred conjured ropes and tied up the Death Eater. Making sure to leave his left forearm and the Mark there exposed for all to see.

Ginny took the time to cover Tachiki back up and pull him around the corner with the help of Harry.

Hermione sent Draco a thought.

_Tachiki knocked out. A Death Eater was here, but we neutralized him._

She tried to send an image of the Death Eaters face, but found it impossible. Apparently, she could only send word to Draco and images to Harry. That wasn't going to make things easy.

_Understood. All clear here. King and Apple say Order meeting is over, but everyone is socializing._

_Right. We're going in._

They moved into the Department of Mysteries and found themselves in a small circular room full of unmarked doors. As soon as Ginny let the hall door close the room began to spin.

When it came to a stop Hermione looked around in dismay.

"This isn't good. Harry, any idea which door?"

He shook his head, "No clue."

She didn't even think about it, she sent a thought back to Draco in the Marauder's Academy.

_There's an issue. We're in a circular room with lots of unmarked doors and it spins when a door closes._

Draco got back to her very quickly.

_Moon says to hold your wand up, pointed at the ceiling and state the words, "Hall of Prophecy." Then turn in a circle three times and jump._

She frowned, but did it, feeling very silly as the others watched it

Immediately a door blazed with an intense blue glow. Harry grabbed the knob and turned. Lying on the other side was a room full of high shelves and glass orbs.

"This is it," Harry said, moving forward quickly, his wand held out.

Hermione followed as she sent Draco a quick thank you.

_Easy work. Moon says she read about it in one of her mother's old journals._

_Tell her thank you._

_Already done._

Harry walked firmly down the aisles, the rest of them followed him. After a minute or two he stopped and stared at a single orb. She saw his name, next to some question marks, on a scrap of paper attached to the orb.

After a deep breath Harry reached out and took the orb. He slipped it into his drawstring bag.

"Let's get out of here," Hermione said.

Harry slipped the cloak around his shoulders, but left his head uncovered. "We need to hurry, Tachiki should wake up soon. I'll scout ahead once we get out."

They moved quickly, somewhat abandoning the stealth they had used so far.

_Got the item. Does Moon know the words to get out?_

_She says to try, "Department Exit."_

_Will do._

As soon as they were back in the circular room Hermione closed the door and held on while the room began to spin. When it came to a stop she pointed her wand at the ceiling and said, "Department Exit," before spinning around three times and jumping.

Nothing happened.

_That wasn't it._

_Try lift?_

She repeated the process, saying, "Lift," instead.

Again, nothing happened.

"That's not working. We need to try something else," Fred said.

He quickly opened a door, behind was an eerie room with a single archway covered with a curtain.

"Not that one," Fred said as he quickly burned an X into the wood of the door and then closed it.

Once the room had stopped spinning he did it again.

They saw a room full of time-turners and another with odd looking brains floating in a green goo. One room was filled with mirrors of all shapes and sizes, while the last room they saw was nothing but inky darkness that seemed to spill out and wash over them.

Instantly Hermione felt her muscles go limp. Why were they doing this? What was the point?

The prophecy didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

Her parents were dead. The murderess escaped, and she wasn't strong enough to get revenge.

She wasn't even strong enough to keep those she cared about safe.

She sank to her knees, her eyes focused - unseeing - on the swirling darkness before her.

_This is pointless._

She wrapped her arms around herself and fell over, curling into a ball, all the energy sapped out of her body.

She couldn't keep herself sane, how could she keep anyone safe? She was ugly and pathetic. Anchorless in a world that hated her very blood.

_Hermione?_ _What's wrong?_

The voice was from far away; it was too much energy to respond. She felt her eyes drifting shut.

_Hermione! Don't you dare!_

A presence pushed on her mind, shaking her, but she ducked down further. Too tired to even push them away.

_Go away…_

_No! Get up Hermione! We need you! They need you! Harry needs you!_

_Harry…_

_Yes! Harry needs you! Reach out! Find him!_

She was so very tired, but the voice was so relentless she felt herself reaching out, tiredly pulling herself down a line until she reached her destination.

Harry.

Screams.

_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry_

Something scratched at her mind, a distant voice, brought back from under all of her own nightmares, from when the two of them had clung to each other, doing their best to keep the nightmares at bay.

_HERMIONE! RUN!_

_Mama?_

_Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-_

_Hermione! It's not real! Think-think of something happy! A patronus! I can cast one! I know you can too!_

_Not Harry! Please . . . have mercy . . . have mercy . . . Not Harry! Not Harry! Please- I'll do anything-_

Happy? What was happy? All she could hear was screams. Her mother's screams. Lily Potter's screams. And now…

_Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -_

_Harry…_

She had to help Harry.

She threw herself back down the line, returning to her own mind. But the screams followed her, chased her, echoing through her own mind.

_Hermione! Please! We're coming as quickly as we can, but you have to stay strong! Please! You have to- No, wait…_

She gasped as she was very suddenly not alone.

Draco.

She felt him, in her head, looking out of her eyes, the chain between them burning brighter than the line she had followed to Harry.

As she watched the chain moved and shifted, twirling in her mind until it came to rest around her, forming a sort of cage, the chain bars shining brilliant in the darkness.

Her eyes grew wide, the darkness pressing in as she began to feel trapped.

"NO!"

She screamed it, inside and out, panicking.

_Hermione, grab the chain! Please!_

Screams filled her mind, her line to Harry growing taut as the danger they were in increased. Her hand began to loosen, her wand slipping through lax fingers.

_Merlin damn it, Hermione! Grab the chain or so help me I will come over there and MAKE you!_

Like before, the voice was too strong to resist.

She reached out and touched the chain.

Silence.

Utter and complete silence.

She took a deep breath as panic began to leave her.

Her arms grew steady as her breathing returned to normal. The chain softened in her grip and then sung around, encircling her. But she didn't feel trapped. Instead she felt safe, protected.

Her grip tightened on it and she instantly knew what Padfoot and Narcissa had meant about an anchor.

Draco had risked practically everything to save her. Before that he had sworn to never hurt her, even promising to stop using a slur. He had kept that promise. That oath of fealty he had sworn, just as she had kept hers to him. Maybe he wasn't the same sort of anchor as Narcissa and Padfoot had, she felt no love for him, but she did trust him. He not only knew one of her darkest secrets, but he had seen it and was not disgusted with her. And, even now, when she had been floating lost in a sea of misery, he had called her back, reminded her of what she fought for, what kept her going. Reminded her that she was no longer a helpless baby in a crib.

That even when she had been that baby, she had fought. Fought for those she loved and what they shared.

The chain his family magic had formed between them was merely a more permanent version of the bond they'd already been creating. She'd risked everything to save his mother, before she'd even known everything.

_NO!_

She screamed it again, an image of a knife being frozen in mid-air.

_No!_

She wasn't helpless. She had never been helpless.

Also, she knew what happiness was.

She called up one of her favorite memories. There was Padfoot, sitting on a broom, with her in front of him. As he slowly took her higher and higher, keeping her safe as she faced her biggest fear. Her fear of failure, of being unable to do something well.

He'd helped her conquer that long ago.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A huge silver dog erupted from her wand and bounded through the small, circular room. It herded the darkness away from her friends and brother.

More silver creatures emerged as soon as life came back to the others. A silver stag ran with the dog, as Padfoot and Prongs had once run together so long ago. Now they were joined by a horse, racing neck and neck with the stag, while a crow swooped and soared above them all, herding the last bit of darkness back into the room.

Fred slammed the door shut, as Hermione just barely managed to burn a mark on it before the room began to once again spin.

When it stopped they all stared at each other, skin pale and sweaty, nightmares still visible in their eyes.

Hermione let out a small scream and spun around when a door opened on its own.

Standing there, wand raised and an expression on his face that she would never forget was her anchor. With Luna and George right behind him. All of them accompanied by a patronus.

George's raven swooped over to the crow and the two of them spun in the air together before disappearing. Luna's hare bounded around the room once before disappearing, along with the stag and horse, leaving Draco's patronus quite visible.

The little fox put his nose up in the air, as if sniffing for darkness. Once sure it was all gone it looked at her dog before they disappeared together.

Words were unnecessary.

The seven of them hurried out of the Department of Mysteries and back up and out of the Ministry. They only stopped long enough to ascertain that Tachiki and the Death Eater were unmoved before leaving.

It wasn't until they were tossing floo powder into the Atrium fireplaces that Hermione realized her fingers were interlaced with Draco's, and they had been since they shut the Department door.

Unwilling to let go, she pulled him into the fireplace with her, wrapping her arms around him as they tumbled through the sooty floo world and onto the solid oak floor of the Academy.

XXX

Draco's heart was thumping wildly as he fell onto the floor, his hand still intertwined with Hermione's.

He still didn't know how they had gotten down to the Department of Mysteries in time. He'd spent the entire run in his own mind, trying to help Hermione as Luna guided his physical body.

And cursing the fact that he couldn't contact Harry's mind unless Hermione was already there. Or they were physically touching. Such as when they had spoken beside the small creek.

Because he had tried. Oh, how he had tried.

How could seeing Hermione being attacked just now scared him more than Voldemort casting the death curse at him?

Was it the chain?

Or something else?

No.

It couldn't be something else. She was his cousin.

Just his cousin.

Keeping that thought in mind he pulled himself to his feet, helping her do the same.

She still refused to release his hand.

Curious and confused he reached out, but it wasn't just with words, like with Harry, skin-to-skin contact made it stronger.

He was with her in a small cage, one that looked to be formed of chains. In her mind, she was sitting on the ground, one hand wrapped around a chain.

_Hermione?_

She looked up at him, a wealth of emotions came towards him at once.

Anger.

Hurt.

Fear.

And something else, something pleasant.

_Draco. Why are you here?_

He moved and sat beside her, not touching.

_You wouldn't let go of my hand._

She looked at her hand gripping the chain of the cage. Slowly she pried her fingers off of it. As soon as she did so he felt a distance grow between them.

He was still there, in her mind, but he could no longer feel her; only hear her.

_That better?_

_No._

He reached out and took her hand. Instantly things grew sharper, clearer.

The cage shifted a bit, becoming less cage-like.

_Did you want to talk?_

She nodded and opened her mouth, then closed it again and sighed.

A thought came to him, born of her telling him to not go in Harry's mind. Was she unhappy about their chain? Did she only accept it because of duty?

_Are you upset?_

She didn't look at him.

_About what?_

_About me being chained to you._

_I don't know. I was alright with it, and I should still be. Our connection saved me from the inky darkness. But...I don't know. Our relationship has changed so much in so little time._

_Would you feel better if I took up bullying younger students again?_

_NO!_

She looked at him then and froze. Then she let out a rueful chuckle.

_You were joking._

_Yes, I can't go back to how I was. I think about bullying someone and I see Vincent being pressured to take the Mark. I see my father forced to work for a cause he no longer believed in. They're all the same, just on different scales._

_You've grown wise._

_No. I'm just actually learning from my experiences._

_That's what wisdom is._

_If you say so._

_I do._

He chuckled.

_Well, if you say so, it must be true._

She smiled back at him.

_See, you're learning._

He smiled back and gave her hand a squeeze. Yes, he was learning. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

XXX

Harry sucked in huge breaths of air and reached out. He snagged Ginny's hand and pulled her close to him. They clung to each other.

His mother. He'd heard his mother.

And his father.

Both of his parents offering their lives for his. His mother being given a choice.

No wonder the blood wards Dumbledore had created were so powerful.

He didn't know if that inky darkness would have killed their soul, like a Dementor could, but he was glad they hadn't found out.

He owed Draco one.

He tilted his head down and rubbed his face over Ginny's soft hair. She squeezed him tighter.

"I was eleven again. Trapped in that diary. Then-then I was fourteen. Listening to you being tortured by Voldemort."

"I heard my parents die."

She let out a half-crazed laugh.

"Okay, you win."

"It's not a contest."

"I know."

He gave her a tight squeeze and then pulled back. Looking around he saw Fred sitting on the floor, George gripping his shoulder tightly and whispering. Luna was waving her wand around, eliminating any soot residue and cleaning up the evidence of their 'adventure'.

Hermione and Draco drew his attention. Their hands were interlinked and there was a somewhat vacant expression in both of their eyes.

He had the odd premonition that Narcissa Malfoy was going to get what she wanted. Something was drawing his sister to his old school rival. Something he wasn't a part of anymore.

He tried to reach out, but he couldn't reach her. He could see her, sitting in a glowing cage made of chains that looked fairly similar to a crib, which struck him as rather odd.

He released Ginny and walked over, reaching up, he took Hermione's other hand.

Instantly he was there beside her, in the cage.

Draco was on the other side. They both looked at him.

He was, like normal, unable to speak, so he sent her an image of the glass orb and a sense of urgency.

Hermione nodded and Harry saw Draco give her hand a squeeze.

They said something to each other, but he couldn't hear them.

He and Hermione just didn't have the same connection.

He pulled his hand out of hers and was once more in the lobby of the Academy.

He reached into his drawstring bag and pulled out the prophecy, "Let's go take a look at this."

They all quickly headed back to the gymnasium, where their brooms were lying, as well as a quaffle. As if they had been playing and merely decided to take a small break.

He held up the prophecy, "Any idea how we listen to it?"

"We break it," Luna said simply.

He saw she had her journal out and quill in her hand. As did Harry.

"All right then. We ready?"

Everyone nodded.

Well, here went nothing. He held his hand up high and then sent the prophecy flying to the hard floor.

The glass shattered and the wispy form of Professor Trelawney appeared.

"The one with the Power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Essence of Dementor is what I was going for there. Wasn't it lovely?
> 
> And Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans! I'm off to go eat turkey and other kinds of delicious food with my husband and some wonderful friends. A bit late, but so it goes when you live overseas and don't get American holidays off work.


	40. Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch is played, prophecies are discussed, and purchases are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to Julist and trinka belle for betaing this. Ya'll rock! :)

Hermione stared at the words she’d copied down as Professor Trelawney spoke.  The prophecy that had decided Harry’s fate.  She wondered if there had been a prophecy about Bellatrix attacking her first home. 

She was curious, but not enough to go back into the Department of Mysteries and look.  No, never that curious.

She was also afraid what such a prophecy might say.  For once she wondered if knowledge was always a good thing.

Because this prophecy certainly seemed self-fulfilling.  Voldemort had only made it true by hearing it.

The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…

That had to be the scar, and the horcrux accidently left inside of Harry.

But as for the bit about either must die at the hand at the other…

Well, she knew from what Luna had shared on prophecies that they didn’t HAVE to come true.  And now that the horcrux was gone Harry didn’t have to do something drastic and terribly Gryffindorish to eliminate all of Voldemort.

Power the Dark Lord knew not…

That was easy.

Harry had love and support.  He had the full power of the blood wards.  He’d had the bit of Voldemort inside of him.  The piece that led him to be chosen by the brother wand of Voldemort’s.  That had saved him in the graveyard.  As had his connection with her.

That had saved him twice.

Yes, love and the connections it brought.  That had to be the power the Dark Lord knew not.  For she didn’t think he had ever loved anyone.

She looked up and over at Harry, who was avidly listening to Luna as she convinced him that the prophecy held no true power.  That it was merely a possible prediction.  How if Voldemort had gone after Neville first it might not have come about at all - as Neville’s parents did not have the same family magic as Lily Potter.

Hermione had thought of all of these things herself - well, most of them - but Luna was so much better at explaining what fell outside the ‘normal’ range of magic.

“So, if the prophecy is only a possible prediction, why did we go and get it?” Fred asked, still sitting extremely close to George, making sure to stay in contact with him.

Hermione was curious what Fred had heard in the darkness, but she knew better than to ask.

“Because, we had to know it, as it is very apparent that Voldemort believes in it.  And we don’t want him gaining information we no longer have access to.  Whoever heard this prophecy isn’t around to tell it to us - I’m guessing Dumbledore - and all the information we can gather is important,” she pointed out.

Luna nodded, “He made the first part come true when he attacked Godric’s Hollow.  If he knew the second part he would continue to try and kill Harry, but he would be suspicious.  Trying to find out what power Harry has.  He may be insane, but he’s not stupid.  He’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Point,” Draco and Ginny said together.

They stared at each other in mild surprise and then Ginny leaned over and punched him lightly on the shoulder, “Maybe you aren’t so bad…Dragon.”

Draco’s lips twisted upwards and Hermione found them oddly mesmerizing as they moved, forming words that left her pleasantly surprised.

“Back at you, Ginger.”

Then he looked at her and Hermione felt…something.

It certainly wasn’t anything she’d felt when around him before.

And she didn’t think it fit their relationship as cousins either.  Or even their relationship as anchor and…. Wait, was there a word to describe what she was to him?  Guardian?  No, because he protected her back, too.  Maybe a ship?  She was carrying him to a world far beyond where he had started.  And he was chained to her, like an anchor was chained to a ship.  

Yes, a ship and it’s anchor.  That might work.

She looked down at her journal, seeing words appear in Ron’s rather lackadaisical handwriting.

- _ Snake Queen, Pink and French on there way _

_ -OK _

Hermione grabbed her wand and swept all the glass shards into her bag.

“Grab a broom.  Narcissa, Dora, and Alianore are heading over,” she barked as she stuffed the journal into her bag and snagged her own broom.

The others quickly followed and, by the time the three older women appeared, they actually had a quidditch game going.  They played unequally, with Hermione and Luna on the same team as neither girl was a competent quidditch player.

Fred and George played Keepers, while Harry and Draco tried to keep up with Ginny.  Who, despite having abysmal fellow chasers, was still flying circles around the two boys on the other team.

They landed on the ground, looking remarkably windswept and out of breath for a game that had only lasted seven or eight minutes. Granted, Hermione knew she still hadn’t recovered from the darkness and the ensuing run through the Ministry.  She assumed the others were still feeling the effects as well.

As she headed back to the ground she caught Narcissa eyeing them all suspiciously, as if their appearance would give away what they had been up to.  Hermione knew she couldn’t get any Black woman to believe she and Luna had really been playing quidditch the entire time.  Though she was sure it was a mystery to the woman how they had known to pick up broomsticks and pretend at the right moment.

“You all missed the big news!” Tonks exclaimed when everyone was off a broom.  

“What news?” Ginny asked.

Dora held up her left hand and grinned broadly, “Remus proposed this evening!”

Hermione couldn’t help but gasp in shock, “Wait, what?”

“When-?” Harry began.

“You two were dating?!?” Ginny exclaimed.

Luna smiled dreamily, “You’ll have such wonderful babies.”

“Huh, you two certainly-”

“-did a good job keeping it quiet.”

Hermione still managed to roll her eyes at the twins as she pried her jaw up off the floor.  They had been doing so well all day, but now they had to revert to their weird twinspeak.

“Congratulations, cousin,” Draco said, obviously not fazed at all by someone Hermione viewed as a bit of an older sister marrying her uncle!

“You two have just been blind,” Alianore said, addressing the twins.  “They’ve had something going on for over a year now.  At least, according to Alice.”

“No, I’ve been pursuing that stubborn man for over a year.  We’ve only had something going on since September.”

Narcissa gave Dora a speculative look, “Since September?  And you managed to get him to propose already?  Are you sure you were a Hufflepuff, dear niece?”

Dora’s pink hair immediately shifted to Hufflepuff yellow, “Hufflepuff through and through!  Nothing sneaky involved, just lots, and lots of effort and hardwork.”

“So she says,” Fred said, leaning over and whispering extremely loudly in Draco’s ear, “but we know a Black scheme when we see one.”

“Indeed,” George said, coming up and whispering in Draco’s other ear, “and you should watch out.  Those Black women are dangerous.”

Hermione let put a sigh.  She knew that she’d have to prove them right in order to get revenge.  Luckily she’d been prepared for them to pull something on Christmas.  They still needed to get revenge for her siccing their mother on them.

Quicker than most aurors she had her wand out and aimed at their heads.  A quick wand movement later and they were now the proud owners of glowing green and red striped hair.

They obviously were still failing to check their shampoo.

Luna giggled as Dora and Ginny laughed out loud.

“You two certainly look very festive,” Narcissa said with a trace of humor.

The twins eyed each other and then shrugged and addressed Draco.

“See what-”

“-we mean?”

Draco took a step back and away from them, looking surprised, “Hermione, when did they find out you were the one to make their hair glow?”

“Oh, they never found out.  I told them in exchange for information on how to find you back in fourth year, when Skeeter wrote that horrible article.”

“She also agreed to be a-”

“-minor partner in our business.”

She slipped her wand away and studied her nails, copying one of Pansy’s favorite poses.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I’m a minor partner.  I’ve helped you create or actually created quite a few of your biggest ticket items.  I also gave a significant amount of my allowance to help fund you.”

They groaned as she continued, “And Diggory gave his Triwizard winnings as well.  The two of us hold a solid forty-nine percent of your business and you know it.  That’s not what I would call minor.”

Dora chuckled, “She’s got you two knuckleheads there.”

Draco looked over at her with an arrogant eyebrow curved upwards, making her jealous.  “You fund and actively assist the dopplegangers?”

“Yes, and so far it’s been a profitable arrangement.”

“And may it continue-”

“-to be one!”

She glared at them and then looked back at the three older witches, “Did you only come to tell us the news and rescue us from this mockery of a quidditch game?”

“Hey!”  Harry exclaimed.

“We were catching up!” Draco protested.

Luna giggled, “You two had as much chance of catching up as Hermione and I did of actually scoring a goal.”

They refused to respond to that and Narcissa took the chance to speak.

“Yes, we came to collect all of you and send you home.  It’s getting late and we need to get up early to head to Diagon Alley tomorrow.  Draco needs some new clothes.”

She eyed the robes Draco had borrowed from Harry with mild disgust.  Honestly, Hermione couldn’t blame her.  Harry had always been hard on his clothes.  After only two to three wearings they tended to look a bit rough around the edges.

They tidied up and headed for the lobby.  Narcissa had gone to Black Cottage as they cleaned up, while Dora and Alianore had disappeared down a long corridor to the offices.  Hermione was the last to use the floo, and, as she was grabbing some powder she heard Alianore speak, her voice echoing from down the hall.  She paused and tilted her head to listen, wondering if it was Order business.

“Tonks, when you relieve Mamoru can you tell him to stop by my house before he goes home?  I need to give him the gifts for him and Zackarie before he heads home to France?”

Hermione winced, she doubted Tachiki would be heading to France after he woke up.  Especially with a trussed up Death Eater next to him.

“Sure thing, Ali.”

“Don’t call me that, Nymphadora.”

Dora coughed, “Alright, you win, Alianore.”

“Thought so, but you just have to keep taking a rematch, don’t you?”

“I have to try.  You’re one of us and it’s my job to annoy everyone.”

“Well, you do a splendid job, Tonks.  Congratulations.”

“Thank you!”

They grew silent and Hermione could hear a rustle of fabric as they grew closer.

Quickly, she tossed in the powder and spun away.  She felt terribly left out, seeing others form relationships she wasn’t around to witness.  But she supposed that was part of growing up.

Besides, she had Draco.  And even if he became friends with others, married someone, and had children he would answer to her first.  He was HERS.  No one else's.

And, if that thought didn’t anchor her, she didn’t know what would.

XXX

Their excursion to Diagon Alley proceeded as planned the next morning, though Hermione noticed that most of the adults looked quite tired.  As if they had been up all night trying to solve a riddle.

Well, she felt no sympathy for them, they’d had more than enough time to do some real damage to the other Riddle.  If she and the other New Marauders had to take things into their own hands, then so be it.

Harry and Ginny went immediately to Quality Quidditch Supplies with Tonks and Uncle Remus escorting them.  Hermione choose to sit that one out and instead went with Aunt Andy, Uncle Ted, Draco, and Narcissa to Madam Malkin’s.  Hermione stood by idly and kept an eye on the street outside as Draco resupplied the basics of his wardrobe.  He also got new school robes. Though most of those had still been at Hogwarts, so he didn’t need much.

After that they trooped on over to Twilfitt and Tattings.  On the way they passed the quidditch shop and Hermione caught a quick glimpse of Harry and Ginny almost drooling over the new Thunderwing - only broom better than a Firebolt.

Inside Tattings, Hermione found herself trying to keep an eye on the street, but failing.  Draco kept coming out of the dressing room in outfits that made him look even more handsome than normal.

And she couldn’t deny he was handsome.  Not now that there was no sneer or smirk twisting his features.  The rather long and unkempt hair softened the usually sharp features on his face, making him look more like his mother than his father.  Accenting how his face glowed with happiness and a touch of excitement as he went through outfits with his mother.

Seeing the two of them going over the cut of a collar or the length of a cloak was eerily similar to watching Harry and Padfoot discuss the line of a broom or the effectiveness of a certain defensive spell.

Half a dozen times she almost made a remark about it to him, but everytime she paused, unable to potentially ruin his fun.

He needed to smile, he needed to forget all the terribleness that had occurred, at least for now.  Later they would go to see Pansy at St. Mungos.  Later he could deal with reality.

She smiled as she watched him pose in front of a mirror, wearing robes with a much more modern cut - almost muggle - than anything she’d seen him wear before.

Yes, she would stay quiet and just watch.  Reality could intrude later.

It’s not like she could stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am copying this from Google Docs and posting this from my phone. Long story short, I'm not even at home right now. 
> 
> But, through the power of modern technology, I am getting you this chapter only a few hours late. 
> 
> And it's a sweet little chapter, isn't it?


	41. Reality Surfaces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco visits Pansy in St. Mungos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you for trinka belle and Julist for beta-reading this :)

The reality that lay before Draco, on the other side of the glass, was hard to bear.  

Pansy had always been petite, but she looked practically miniscule lying there on the hospital bed.  Her face was twisted in agony as a mind healer touched her forehead with his wand, a blank expression on his face.

“They say they’re almost done.”

He looked over at Longbottom, standing beside him, gripping the window frame with white fingers.

“Do they-” he stopped and took a deep breath.  “Do they know how badly she’ll be affected?”

“No,” Professor Longbottom said from her spot on a nearby chair.  Harry sat on a sofa near Professor Longbottom, clasping Ginger’s hand.  Everyone’s expression was grim.

Guilt twisted in Draco’s chest, he opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped by Hermione speaking.

_It’s not your fault._

_Yes, it is.  She got hurt because I defied Him._

_If we follow that logic, then she got hurt because I led her into Malfoy Manor._

His fists clenched, all his mature words and thoughts disappearing.

_Yes!  You led her there!  But you did it to rescue my mother!  And she only needed rescuing because I was stupid!  I should have just taken the Mark and escaped later.  Then everyone would be alive and happy!_

_Griffonshit._

He reeled as if punched and looked at her.  He didn’t think he’d ever seen her curse.  She’d always had model behavior unless her Black bloodlust was taking over.

_That got your attention?  Now, listen up Draco Lucius Malfoy.  I’ve been really mature for the past week, but I’m tired.  You said you’re chained to me.  I didn’t get a choice in that, and you didn’t get much of one either.  Now, listen and take some much needed advice._

She reached out and wrapped her hand over his where it lay on the window frame.  A moment later he felt her appear in his head.

The chain cage was still around her, but it seemed to have sunk down a bit, as if it was growing roots and anchoring her.

_You are not a skilled legiliminus like Snape.  As soon as the Dark Lord marked you he would have torn through your mind.  He would have instantly known that you were chained to me - even before you consciously knew.  And, even without that he would have known you were not loyal to him and you never would be.  He would have either killed you or put you under the Imperius Curse._

_If he put me under the Imperius Curse my father would still be alive.  As would everyone else.  Mother would have freed me later._

_Maybe, but not before you did something terrible!_

_Oh, and what defines terrible?  I’d say getting the hand cursed off one of my best friends as terrible!_

_Theo didn’t have to join you in defiance!  It was his choice!_

_But it was a choice I forced on him!  I shouldn’t have asked him that stupid question!  His father tried to kill him!  His father cursed his own son!!!  Sliced his hand right off!  I know he was aiming for Theo’s neck!_

_You listen up, Draco!  Theo was NEVER going to follow in his father’s footsteps!  Eventually they would have fought, maybe at a time when Theo was alone, without backup!  We don’t know what could have happened!_

_Fine.  Believe that if you want to.  But that doesn’t change the reality of Pansy.  Her parents aren’t Death Eaters.  They’re on the fence.  She was safely at home until YOU summoned her!  YOU dragged her into that battle!_

_Yes!  I did!  But she came WILLINGLY!!! She loves you!  You’re her best friend!_

_Really?  You think I’m her best friend?  Then what is Longbottom?!?_

_Honestly!  You think someone can only have one best friend?!?_

Draco’s jaw clenched and he stomped his foot, uncaring what she might think about that.

_Yes!  After all, only one person can be BEST!!! Don’t you understand?  Theo WAS my best friend.  Then we had a falling out.  Pansy became my best friend.  But now she’s chosen Longbottom!  You have Harry.  You always have and you always will!  You can’t POSSIBLY understand!!!_

XXX

“So, Malfoy, how is Theodore doing?  Malfoy?”

Harry looked up and saw Neville staring at Draco in confusion.  

It only took a moment for Harry to see why Draco was unresponsive.  The blonde’s hand was lying under Hermione’s, and both of them were staring rather blankly at each other.  

He sighed.

“Neville, he can’t hear you.” He pointed at their hands, “They’re talking inside one of their minds.  Let me go check on them.”

Ginny snorted, “They really need to not do this in public.  It’s liable to get them killed.”

“Point,” Harry said as he untangled his hand from hers and stood up.

When he reached the window he looked out at Pansy and the mind-healer for a moment, then took a deep breath and put his hand on top of Hermione’s.

Then, with a quick push of his mind he was once more standing in Draco’s mind.  Hermione was there, once again inside the cage, but this time it looked a bit different - though he couldn’t quite say how.  Draco was outside the cage, and both of them looked furious.

Worried, he reached out, sending a soothing image of himself humming and comforting her.

She looked up and her eyes narrowed.  A second later he was thrust out, finding himself once again in the sterile hospital.

An image of something he couldn’t name resided in his mind for a moment.  It was more of a mixture of emotions than something physical.  He was left with the impression that whatever Draco and Hermione were working through had to be dealt with now.

And that he had no part in it.

Something twisted inside of him, and he took a deep breath, forcing back the tears that pricked at his eyes.  It was stupid to feel hurt, he didn’t own Hermione.  Besides, they all had to grow up sometime.  

“Harry?”

A small, cool hand slipped into his own.  He looked over at his girlfriend and gave a wobbly smile.

“Love you, Ginny.”

She leaned in and gave him a hug, “Love you, too.”

Neville awkwardly cleared his throat, “So...what just happened?”

XXX

Draco saw Harry appear and then disappear just as quickly.  Hermione scowled at the spot he had occupied and then turned her attention back to Draco.

_Griffonshit!  Harry may be my best friend, but I’m not his only best friend!  Ron and Ginny are also his best friends!_

_Griffonshit right back at you!  Ginger isn’t his best friend, she’s his girlfriend!_

_What?  You can’t be both?  That’s a twisted lie!_

He stormed over towards her, the cage shimmered and moved, letting him through.  Then it seemed to tighten around them, trapping them mere inches apart.

_Fine!  You can be both!!!   You can have multiple best friends!!!  That just means I got my best friends cursed!  Theo lost his hand and Pansy’s mind is invaded by nightmares!  Nightmares!  Do you understand the danger?!?  She could lose her sanity from this!_

_Of course I understand the danger!  You think I don’t know the power of nightmares?!?  Really?  I’ve suffered from nightmares since I was two-years-old!!!  Ever since that witch with a capital B escaped Azkaban I’ve had to sleep in Harry’s bed to keep them at bay!  Hell!  I’ve only been sleeping in my own bed since I actually faced her and vomited all over her bloody boots!_

He opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it closed again as he felt his oath with her twinge.  A faint part of him remembered his promise to never discuss that ‘witch with a capital B’ with Hermione.  No, he didn’t want to break his promise with her.  He may be furious with her, but he never wanted to see her hurt.  Plus, he’d promised, and his ability to keep that promise was something he actually had control over.

The cage shuddered and sank deeper, the chains growing thicker.

He took a deep breath and slowly released it, watching her do the same.

_Okay, you know nightmares.  But that doesn’t change the fact she’s cursed because of me.  Me!  She’s already been obliviated once because of me!  And now she could be permanently damaged!_

Anger blazed in her brown eyes, turning them almost golden.

_You’re such a narcissist!  You think it’s all because of you?!?  Well, guess what?  It isn’t!  People have free will!  Pansy chose to talk to Skeeter!  Skeeter chose to obliviate Pansy!  Pansy and Neville chose to be...well...whatever they are.  Your mother chose to set things up in such a way that you would want to defy the Dark Lord!  Your father chose to sacrifice himself for you!  Theo chose to join your defiance!  I chose to risk all to rescue your mother!  Yes, I did it to make sure you aren’t an orphan like me!  But I chose that because of who I am!  Not you!  And my friends chose to follow me!  They CHOSE to!!!  Including Pansy and Theo!  Get it?!?_

He did.  He did get it.  Guilt twisted even deeper inside of him, and tears pricked at his eyes, making them burn.  He knew it wasn’t really his fault. He knew this deep down, but that just made it worse.  He was helpless.  Completely helpless.

His breath started to come faster and his chest tightened.

Air.

He needed air.

Blindly he stepped backwards, trying to get space, but found his back pressed up against the chain-like bars of the cage.

Panic began to fill him.

He was trapped.

Trapped and helpless.

His breath came faster and faster, she began to waver in front of his eyes.  Blackness appeared, creeping in from the edges and covering his view of her.

He grew even more panicked.

_Oh...Draco…_

Then he was surrounded by soft flesh, not hard bars.  He clung to it, soft black hair covered his vision, replacing the darkness that had been intruding.  Something appeared over his mouth, helping his breathing become slower, more controlled.  He focused in on it as a soft hum traveled over his skin, easing the tenseness.

He didn’t know how long it took for him to regain control of his body, but when he did he pulled back and looked at her face.

They were sitting on the ground, the cage surrounding them, looking even stronger than before.  It also looked different, but he didn’t quite know how.

_I’m sorry, Draco.  I didn’t know you had panic attacks.  I hope the breathing spell helped.  I read about it after you crushed your hand and went into shock._

_Panic what?_

_Panic attacks, what you just had.  Was that your first one?_

_Huh? Oh. No.  I-I had one after I realized you were in St. Mungos under that curse.  I felt helpless.  But it wasn’t as bad as this one._

She giggled, and he found himself entranced with how her neck looked as she tilted her head back in laughter.

_You’re definitely a Slytherin.  I know - it’s not funny - but it kind of is.  When you feel helpless you panic._

He stared at her in shock, then felt himself smile in return.  

_You’re right.  And you’re a bloody Gryffindor, rushing into battle to save one person._

_Point.  But guess what?  You’re chained to me now, I’ll be dragging you with me into those battles.  You’ll never be helpless again._

He smiled at that, realizing that she spoke the truth.  As long as he stayed with her and the other New Maurauders he would never be helpless again.

_Point.  And, well, I shouldn’t have blown up at you about the guilt and whose fault it is.  I thought I was dealing with everything so well, but when I saw her lying there…_

He trailed off, unable to describe the exact emotions he’d felt when he saw Pansy.

_It’s been a busy and stressful few days.  I shouldn’t have lost my cool either.  Your father wasn’t a good man, but he was a good father and you miss him.  And that was only one effect of your decision._

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, noticing it was longer than it had ever been before.  Pretty soon he’d be able to tie it back like his father had always done.

Somehow, the thought of emulating his father in some small manner made him feel more at peace with what had happened.  As if doing so would help keep the good parts of his father alive.

_Yes, there were lots of effects, but that was the first, and the most permanent.  I’m just glad there were as few casualties as there were.  Even if losing Dumbledore is terrible for the Order._

She pursed her lips and grew thoughtful.

_I’m not so sure losing him was bad for the Order, even if it was bad for Hogwarts.  I think he was the main reason they always acted from the shadows and kept secrets past the point they should have been revealed.  He tried to stop Padfoot from telling Harry and me about the Azkaban Breakout.  Also...I think he suspected Harry was a horcrux.  I can’t prove it.  It’s just a hunch based on his words and actions._

He thought back on his own encounters with the Headmaster.  Including how he had sworn to spy for the Order if Dumbledore would keep it secret that it was Draco who had told the Order and Ministry about Harry being kidnapped and Hermione going after him.

For a moment he felt grateful Dumbledore had died, thus eliminating that promise, but then the guilt came back.  It was muted now, but it was still there.  He took a deep breath to steady himself and then pulled up Harry’s words.  Embrace the guilt, accept it, and then stand back and look at it.  Figure out who has the true blame.  And Draco had another thought to add to that.  Because he seriously doubted any of the Death Eaters felt guilty about the deaths.  No guilt, no remorse, no chance for redemption.

Unlike himself.

Hermione reached out and took his hand.  He gave it a squeeze and looked at her.  In her almost golden eyes he saw his own emotions mirrored back.  

Guilt, and her own acceptance of it.  As well as something deeper, darker, promising retribution to all those that had done her harm.

Idly, he wondered why they had been arguing.  But as soon as the thought crossed his mind he knew why: it was what they did.  The last two times they had truly communicated had started with an argument.  The first had been ended in a promise.  The second ended with him catching her as she passed out from exhaustion.  Oh, and his broken hand.

This time would end with them holding hands and...well...something else.  Though he couldn’t yet name it.

The cage shuddered and morphed, taking on a shape he had no word for, other than beautiful.

_Well, that’s different._

He nodded, wondering what it meant, but also fearing to go in that direction.  Wary of what he might find.

_Indeed, now, why don’t we go see how Pansy is doing?  I need to find out everything if I’m to help Neville get her on her feet again.  Later we can discuss how to make the correct parties recognize their guilt._

She smiled at him, taking his breath away.  A moment later the connection broke and they were back in the small viewing room.

Harry and Ginger were still sitting on the sofa, and Neville was still standing beside him, but all of their attention was directed at Hermione and himself, rather than Pansy.

“You two should stop doing that in public, you look like someone imperiused you,” Ginger said.

Hermione snorted, “This isn’t public.  There’s only us five here.  Besides, Draco and I had some things to work out.  And it’s not like we’d get privacy anywhere else.  Black Cottage is full to bursting and your mum is always nosy, so the Burrow is out.”

“Point,” Neville and Harry said together, making Ginger scowl and grumble something about her mum and only she could say such things.

Draco thought it telling that she didn’t actually say this loud enough for anyone to be required to respond to it.  Likely because she had no red-haired backup.

He turned from the couple on the couch and looked through the window at Pansy. Guilt still swept through his body at the sight of her, but it didn’t linger.  It was quickly replaced by a burning desire for revenge.

It wasn’t just enough now to help Harry and Hermione take down Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

No.

Taking them down wasn’t enough.  

They had to die.  All of them.

But first, they had to suffer.

XXX

The next week passed quickly.  Fred and George reported that most of the Order seemed baffled by what had happened outside the Department of Mysteries.  A few times Hermione caught Narcissa looking at her speculatively, but nothing was said.  

Hermione and Luna spent time together working on various research topics or homework while most of the others spent their days playing quidditch in the gymnasium.  That is, when they all weren’t being put through their paces by Alianore, Tachiki, or Mrs. Longbottom.  Ron recovered enough to move and took up a position in a comfy chair, watching any and all quidditch games and working on new strategic plays to implement in the next quidditch practice.  On New Year’s Day they even invited the rest of the Gryffindor team over and he put them through their paces.  

Harry teased him about becoming the next Oliver Wood, which resulted in a rude hand gesture that made Ginny laugh.  Hermione supposed there was a reason Ron had been made the Gryffindor Team Captain, not Harry.

Draco was banned from that quidditch practice as he was the seeker for a rival team.  He’d grumbled about this, but ended up joining Hermione and Luna in an empty classroom.

Luna was reading something on spectral planes, while Hermione worked on creating a pair of goggles that counteracted the effects of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.  It would make it so much more effective to be able to counteract it.

Draco watched them for a moment, then took a seat and pulled out the NM journal.  Hermione watched from the corner of her eye as he began casting diagnostic spells on it.  Then he pulled out a piece of parchment and began scribbling arithmancy equations.  She frowned, wondering what he was doing, but she chose to say nothing.

She didn’t really think he planned to keep secrets from her.

After about an hour he let out a shout of triumph and drew his wand.  As she watched he aimed it at the book and cast, “ _Homeniber Revelidum_.”  The book glowed a faint shade of blue for a moment,

 _“_ Hey, one of you pull out your journal.”

Hermione frowned in curiosity, but did as he said, Luna leaned over to look.  As the sound of a quill scratching on paper began, words appeared.  But there was something a little different.  Draco’s name lay before the words.

 _Draco Malfoy:_ _Do you two see my name?  There are so many of us.  I thought this would make it easier to communicate._

Hermione snatched her own quill off the cover and wrote back.

_-We do.  How did you adapt the spell?_

_Draco Malfoy:_ _I started studying a book on creating spells last spring.  Compared to that, adapting a few and merging them is easy._

“ _Homeniber Revelidum_ ,” Luna said, aiming her wand at her own journal.

Then she picked up a quill.

 _Luna Lovegood:_ _We need to make it say our code names._

 _Draco Malfoy:_ _I’ll keep working on it.  Make it so we can set our own names._

Hermione cast the spell on her own journal and grinned as she wrote.

 _Hermione Black:_ _I’m sure we can work that out._

- _Dragon is going to take all the fun out of this._

_-How can we confuse all of you if our names appear by our words?_

Her grin changed into a laugh.  

“Watch out Draco, they’ll try and prank you for this.  Even as they steal it to put into their own products.”

Draco looked up and smirked at her, his long hair half-hiding his silver eyes, making them glitter.

“Just watch them try.  I better get a cut of any sales on products using this spell.  If I don’t they’ll hear from my lawyers.”

 _Luna Lovegood:_ _Gred and Forge never poke a sleeping dragon, especially when it’s got a phoenix on its side._

Instead of writing, one of the twins drew an image of a dragon and a phoenix doing…

Hermione’s jaw dropped and Draco let out a yelp of shock, while Luna began giggling helplessly.

Hermione’s brain began to race and she started plotting different ways to get revenge.  It would have to wait until Easter or Summer, but she would get them back for that.

But, then, as she watched the picture began to move and the dragon and phoenix were now sitting beside a fire, where two black birds were roasting.

She looked up at Draco and couldn’t help but return his smirk.

Yes, she would get revenge, but she wouldn’t be alone.  Draco would be with her every step of the way, and in a way she knew Harry never could.

Because, much as she loved her brother, he was not a truly vindictive person.  

She was.

So was Draco.

And together they would make sure no one got away with messing with them or those they cared about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, wasn't that fun? I think some of you suspected that Draco and Hermione had worked through their guilt a little too easily, and you were right. I know when I'm hit by something huge I examine it a bit, then push it aside and keep going, until, well, I'm forced to confront it once more. It feels like something Draco would do, so that's what he did. He's also had no real closure yet about what happened at the battle. He can't even bury his father yet because of the bloody Ministry. So, yep, bit of a blowout, ending in them holding hands and practically cuddling.
> 
> Oh, and some inappropriate drawings, courtesy of the Weasley Twins.


	42. Returning to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They return to a Hogwarts that isn't quite the same as it was before...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, huge thank you to trinka belle and Julist :) 
> 
> Also, keep an eye out this week, I have two (maybe three) short fics going up for Christmas. One Dramione, one Drarry (Secret Santa), and one with both.

The last few days of the holiday were a rush of activity.  Draco tried to stay out of most of it, but was unable to.  He constantly found himself at dinner tables surrounded by people that had hated his father, but seemed to really like him.

And he never seemed to be alone.  The closest he came to that was when he was in the shower.  

And even then, he was half-afraid Hermione would shoot him a question about something.

Who knew being magically chained to someone could be so potentially mortifying?

After the second shower interruption, he began to tell her when he was taking a shower.  That way she left him alone.  

That didn’t stop him from accidentally thinking to her when she was in the shower once.  

That event had prompted them to sit down and make up a few social rules.  They also agreed to only touch and enter each other’s minds when they had someone trustworthy around to watch their back.  Ginger had been right, it wasn’t good to just do that anywhere.

And they never followed the chain between their minds without permission anymore.  Not since she had accidentally seen Harry in just his pants as the two were getting ready for bed.

Not that Draco had been looking at Harry, the Gryffindor had just been in his field of vision.

He visited Pansy twice more during the week, each time the mind-healers swore she was getting better, but Draco saw no improvement when he looked through the window.  

He spoke with Longbottom during those visits, actually getting to know him.  Learning just how much the Gryffindor cared about Pansy, though the two refused to put labels on their relationship.

His constant interaction with the other New Marauders meant that when they all boarded the Hogwarts Express at King’s Cross he thought nothing of joining the Gryffindors and Luna in the last car of the train - Theo at his side.

Twenty minutes into the ride, when Draco was busy reading, the compartment door opened to reveal Tracey and Blaise.

Tracey looked supremely pissed off, and Blaise appeared to be on the warpath.

“THEODORE ARTICULUS NOTT!!!”

Tracey’s voice pierced through the suddenly silent area, allowing the rattling glass to be her only accompaniment.

“Just _what_ is going on?” Blaise practically hissed.

Theo opened and closed his mouth several times, at a complete loss.  But that didn’t stop Blaise from continuing.

“Not one letter! Not one!  Not since that bloody battle!  We didn’t even know if you were dead or alive!  Nothing!”

That was when the ever-nosy Tracy saw Theodore’s hand.  Well, rather she realized she could only see one, as the other was hidden under a black glove.

She was across the compartment in a half second, utterly ruining the card game Ginger, Weasley, Luna, and Harry had been playing.  Ginger narrowly avoided have her fingers crushed, while Weasley was wincing and holding his side, where Tracey had bumped him.

Luna’s eyes narrowed dangerously at Tracey’s back before she began fussing over Weasley.

“What is this?!?” Tracey said as she grabbed Theo’s hand and yanked it up.

He winced but didn’t stop her from yanking the glove off.

She gasped and took a step backwards, tripping over Ginger and landing in Harry’s lap.

She didn’t move, her horrified eyes focused on the silver hand that Theo was now once again covering in black leather.

“Is that why?” Blaise asked, a ribbon of pain and hurt swept along with his silken voice.

He stepped over the game players, his long legs allowing him to avoid injuring anyone.

Theo didn’t protest, and neither did anyone else as Blaise took his gloved hand and pulled him to his feet, then out of the compartment.  Tracey scrambled off Harry’s lap, elbowing him in the abdomen as she did so, and followed them.

Well, that wasn’t quite true.  Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Draco sent her a quick thought.

_Don’t._

She closed her mouth and looked at him.

_Why?_

_The three are good friends.  Practically inseparable down in Slytherin.  I didn’t know he hadn’t been writing them.  They need to talk._

_Alright.  I suppose if they were Death Eater sympathizers they wouldn’t attempt anything on the train._

_I don’t think they are.  Well, I know Tracey isn’t.  She’s a half-blood.  Her mother is a pureblood Selwyn, but her father was a first-generation half-blood._

_What about Zabini?_

Draco shrugged, forgetting that such physical movements weren’t used when speaking mind to mind.

_I don’t know.  Snape warned us to be careful about him.  His mother and the rest of their family are always on the winning side.  No matter what.  But, they are very good friends, and right now we look to be winning, even with Dumbledore dead._

“Point,” she said aloud.

Everyone glared at her, and then at him, knowing that she had only spoken aloud to ensure he got an actual point.

She’d noticed earlier that week that the coin didn’t register nonverbal points.

“Should one of us follow them?  I have the cloak,” Harry said.

Luna shook her head, “No.  Let them talk.  I’ll make sure Davis understands things later.”  There was a dangerous thread in Luna’s voice.

She had summoned some water and then frozen it, now the ice was nestled against Weasley’s side.

Draco had an idea what Luna was going to explain, but he was sure he didn’t want to know the details.  Some things were better to remain forever unknown.  And he’d always admit the pale little Ravenclaw was one of the scariest people at Hogwarts.  

The compartment returned to normal then, or what he supposed was normal.  Longbottom was playing with a small plant and scribbling things in a pocket-sized notebook, Hermione had her nose buried in a book, and the rest were cleaning up and restarting their game.

He sighed and opened his book, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.  Everything was too quiet.  Too normal.

Well, as normal as the train rides ever got.

It made him wonder what would happen to break that peace.  Because something had to.

He just knew it.

Still, there was nothing he could do right now.  So, instead of worrying, he pushed the thoughts away and went back to his book.

XXX

As soon as he walked into the Great Hall he knew what was horribly wrong.

And it wasn’t just the lack of a brightly robed and bearded individual at the Head Table.

No.

It was the fact that there was now a fat, squat little witch in robes of pink at the Head Table.

No.

Not just AT the Head Table, but rather sitting smack dab in the middle of the Head Table.  In the spot reserved for the Headmistress.

He even recognized the nasty witch.

She’d been at Hogwarts during the Defense exam.  He’d seen her, during his own practical exam, but she had said nothing.

It had been quite different for Harry.  He’d heard of the nonsense this woman had tried to create.

Claiming Harry would cheat.

Hah!

Harry was possibly the most stubbornly honest Gryffindor in all of Hogwarts.  Well, Longbottom might trump him, but it was a close race.

He knew the Ministry was still in denial.  His mother was sending constant angry letters, trying to get his father’s body released.  The Daily Prophet was full of constant lies.  This toad of a woman worked for the Ministry.

No good would come of her being here.

No good at all.

“Hem hem.”

The annoying sound went ignored by the student body, all of them more interested in discussing everything that had occurred during the break to show any interest in the pink toad.

“HEM HEM!”

Draco had to bite on his lip to stop from laughing at the woman’s face as everyone continued to ignore her.  She stood up, but it made no difference in her height.  She looked around helplessly for a moment.  Then her eyes narrowed and she turned pointedly to Professor McGonagall.

A few words were spoken, the Deputy Headmistress’ lips narrowed and turned down, but she nodded and stood up.

As soon as she did so the entire hall grew quiet and every eye was trained on her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to complicated circumstances the Board of Governors is unable to appoint a new Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts until this summer.  The Ministry, naturally,” Draco couldn’t help but smirk at the disdain dripping from her voice, “has seen fit to evoke the recently created Educational Decree Twenty-two so as to ensure that no one’s education is disturbed.  As such, I would like to introduce Madam Umbridge, our _temporary_ Headmistress.”

You could have dropped a pin in the silence these words evoked.

And then the toad began to speak, and Draco thought he was going to gag.  He may not have liked Dumbledore, but the man was leagues above this witch.

Leagues.

“Thank you, boys and girls, for your warm welcome.  I may only be a _temporary_ holder of this position, but I am sure I will do great things for Hogwarts while here.  In fact, to this end I shall be observing all classes and…”

He tuned her out and looked over at the Gryffindor table to see his fellow New Marauders looking almost as pissed off as Tracey had appeared earlier on the Hogwarts Express.

He leaned over and whispered to Theo, “I think Hogwarts just became a battleground.”

Theo nodded, “Point.”

_Hermione, had you heard about this?_

_No, I’m guessing it’s a last-minute play by the Ministry.  Look at Neville’s mum._

He looked up at Mrs. Longbottom and winced.  Oh, yes, if looks could kill than the new _temporary_ Headmistress would be as dead as Professor Binns.

_I see that.  I’m guessing she’ll get no support from the staff._

_Indeed.  And just wait til I get some research done and write an article.  She’ll get no support from anyone then._

He snorted out loud.

_I bet she doesn’t have any educational experience._

He saw her lips twist in a humorless smile from across the hall.

_I refuse to take that bet._

_Smart of you._

She didn’t respond to that, but he knew she had to be thinking and planning.  

He reached into his robes and ran a hand over the smooth leather cover of the tome there.  The gesture soothed him, gave him a feeling of confidence.  

He took a deep breath and released it slowly before turning his steel-like gaze on the new _temporary_ Headmistress, becoming one of the many silently thinking of murder as the speech droned on and on, delaying dinner and earning Umbridge no allies.

If Hogwarts hadn’t just became a battleground, it was only because one side hadn’t realized they had an enemy.

XXX

The silence in the Sixth-year dormitory was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Theo kept throwing looks between Draco and Blaise, obviously torn about something as he slipped into his pajamas.

By the time the light was off and Draco was climbing into his own four-poster bed he was close to snapping.

They really should have worked out whatever was going on back on the train.

Actually, he thought they HAD worked it out.  Theo had come back to the compartment before they arrived at Hogsmeade - smiling, no less!

And at dinner he had sat between Draco and Blaise, with Tracey across from him.  They had even all spoken quite civilly together once the toad had finally stopped blabbering on and let them eat.

But in the fifteen minutes he had taken to do his evening toilet something had changed.

He snapped his bed curtains shut and sat there in the dark, taking deep, calming breaths before lying down and pulling the soft blankets over himself.

Then, as had somehow become his habit, he shot Hermione a thought.

_I’m going to sleep._

_Alright, goodnight!  I’m heading there myself._

_Goodnight._

As he got settled under his warm blankets he forced himself to relax and force all thoughts of chains, the Ministry, and toad women away.  It wasn’t easy, and it took him awhile, but he did it.

He felt his breathing change and his mind began to drift away.  Then, as he was in that soft, floaty place between real life and dreamland he heard a noise that had him instantly awake.

There was the small clink of bed curtains moving, and then the soft sound of feet padding across the floor before more clinking.

A moment later he heard voices.

“Theo, please…”

“Blaise…”

“He’s asleep.”

There was a rustling of blankets and Draco froze, half-afraid of what he might overhear.  But after a minute of rustling all noise ceased and he heard them speak again.

“Goodnight, Blaise.”

“Goodnight, Theo.”

A few minutes later their breathing changed and Draco sat up and looked out of his own bed curtains.  The room was dark, but enough light filtered in from the window into the lake that he could see that nothing was different from the way it had been before.

Greg and Vince’s beds were eerily empty and the curtains were closed tightly on Blaise and Theo’s beds.

How long had this been going on?  How blind was he to what was going on in his own House?

He was a prefect for Merlin’s sake!

He should…

He should…

But what he should do eluded him, because, ultimately, what did it matter?  It’s not like they were doing anything truly inappropriate with him in the room.  No, as long as he never saw or heard something that he shouldn’t, he would ignore this.

It was better that way.

Plus, Theo needed people in his life that put him first.  And while Draco knew they were friends again, Theo wasn’t first in his life.

No, that spot was reserved for his cousin.

And he was beginning to wonder if anyone would ever take it from her.  

He wasn’t saying his mother was right, that her plans were something he agreed with, but after the past two weeks…

Well….

No.

He took a deep breath and released it slowly.

Hermione was his cousin and friend.  There was an insane dark lord that wanted them dead and their school was _temporarily_ being run by a woman that made his skin crawl.  And she likely wanted them - if not dead - silenced.

There were bigger things to worry and think about.

Safer things.

He pulled the blankets up to his neck and burrowed under them.

Yes, much, much safer things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Umbridge is here. Isn't this going to be fun?
> 
> Also, if any of you enjoy drarry, I'd like to recommend 'Save the Date' by Julietsemophase, a friend of mine. Basically Draco and Harry end up in Holiday Land. And while there are, of course, the major holidays, there are also appearances by a large number of minor holidays. And every moment of this story is absolutely fantastic.


	43. Hubris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one is above failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my betas, trinka belle and Julist :)

Hermione woke up at the crack of dawn.  Energy was coursing through her and she felt like she had a true, solid purpose.

She’d reserve full judgement until she found out some more about this Umbridge woman, but she was rather sure that her first impression was correct.  Just from what Harry had told her about the Defense exam and that speech last night she was sure Umbridge was here for some nefarious purpose.

After all, the Ministry had been here all Winter Break, trying to find proof that Dumbledore was a traitor.

Obviously they had not succeeded and so had pushed through Educational Decree Twenty-Two, to keep someone here and searching for proof.

Or something they could alter to make into proof.

With this thought in mind she quickly penned a letter to Percy, asking what he knew about Umbridge.  He was the only Weasley still working at the Ministry.  He was also in the Order, and would be happy to tell her anything that wasn’t confidential if she worded her letter correctly.

Luckily, she’d known him long enough she could write the correct letter.

Hopefully.

Once the letter was finished and sealed she hurriedly got dressed, grabbed her things for class, and headed out of the Tower.

She had already delivered the letter to the Owlry and was on her way to the library when a loud shriek echoed through the corridor she was in.

She didn’t think about it, she hitched up her bag, drew her wand, and took off running.

She was about to round a corner when Professor Mcgonagall’s crisp voice stopped her.

“Why, Madam Umbridge, whatever is the matter?”

Her heart pounding, Hermione crept forwards and peeked around the corner.  

Standing in the hall was an immaculately dressed Professor McGonagall looking coolly down her nose at a half-dressed Professor Umbridge.

Half-dressed as in wearing only a frilly pink nightgown and with a head covered in curlers.

She had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop a snort of laughter from escaping.

“THAT - THAT BLOODY TOWER!!!  It - it EXPELLED me!!”  She pointed at the statue of the gargoyle currently glaring down at her.

One of Professor McGonagall’s thin eyebrows rose - Hermione felt a pang of jealousy - and she gave a delicate sniff, “Well, of course it did.  Don’t tell me you actually slept up there?”

Umbridge’s face grew red, “Of _course_ I slept up there!  I’m the Headmistress of Hogwarts!!!”

“Oh, no, Madam Umbridge.  You are only the _temporary_ Headmistress.  The Castle knows this, you see.”

The red-faced toad’s eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean it _knows_?  It’s just a castle, not a person.”

“Surely you realize that Hogwarts is more than just a castle!  After all, you did go to school here for seven years.”

The false shock on McGonagall’s face had Hermione biting her lip to stop from laughing.

“Of course!” Umbridge blustered, “I am merely trying to,” she ground her teeth, “ascertain exactly _why_ I was so rudely awakened and thrown from bed.”

“You see, only a Headmaster or Headmistress appointed by seven school governors can reside in the official offices.  To ensure this, the castle locks up the rooms two weeks after the death of a sitting Headmaster or Headmistress.  The rooms will not reopen until the governors appoint someone new.  Which, if you remember Madam Umbridge, their current inability to do so is the entire reason you are here.”

“But my things!!!  My wand!  My robes!  My decorations!!!” Umbridge squawked, her face moving from red to a dangerous shade of purple.

Just as McGonagall opened her mouth to reply Hermione heard footsteps behind her.

She jumped and turned around to see Professor Snape approaching.  He eyed her and then his lips curved in a dangerous smile that she had never seen before.  He gestured for her to stay put and then turned the corner.

“What is going on here?”

All the air left Umbridge as she twirled to look at Snape, her curlers bobbing on her head.

The silence lay thick on the corridor for a moment, as Umbridge was clearly at a loss for words and a bit intimidated by the bat of the dungeons.

Professor Mcgonagall, however, was not.

“Good morning, Severus.  Apparently Madam Umbridge made the mistake of sleeping in the Headmaster’s Tower last night.”

Snape’s black eyes studied Umbridge’s appearance and then he coolly said, “Minerva, did you not inform her it was inadvisable to sleep there?  You are still Deputy Headmistress.”

Professor Mcgonagall nodded, “I did indeed, Severus.  It was on the very front page of the notes I gave Madam Umbridge as soon as she arrived.” She turned and looked at Umbridge, “Did you not read the notes I gave you?”

“Of course I did!” Umbridge blustered.  “And they said _nothing_ about the tower locking me out!  I’ll have you fired for this!”

“Are you sure?”  Professor Snape asked.

“Of course I’m sure!  I know what I read!”

“Hm, I was _certain_ I wrote that you needed to find another place to stay.”

“Well, Minerva, Madam Umbridge, we can easily solve this.  Where are the notes?”

“They are in the Headmaster’s Tower,” Umbridge ground out.

“Then we will need to shelve the matter until the Board of Governors appoints someone,” Snape said coolly.

Umbridge ground her teeth, “Why?  I am _Headmistress_.”

“Madam Umbridge,” Snape said in a tone so cold Hermione was surprised the air did not turn into ice.  “You are the _temporary_ Headmistress.  You were not appointed by the Board of Governors.  We can not enter the tower and find proof until they do elect someone.  And you may not suspend the Deputy without the Board’s approval. Something they can not give with less than seven members.  And, as soon as they have seven members they will replace you.  So, you see, nothing can be done.”

“We shall see about _that_!”

With that she turned to flounce off, her curlers bouncing on her head.

She was halfway down the corridor, heading away from Hermione when Professor McGonagall called out, “Madam Umbridge!”

Umbridge didn’t even turn around as she snapped, “What?”

“You may want to find some robes.  It wouldn’t be appropriate for the students to see you dressed like that.  I believe Professor Sprout may have something to fit you until you can get more clothes.”

Hermione was sure she was about to start bleeding as she was biting her lip so hard in an attempt to not laugh as Umbridge returned to flouncing down the corridor, one of her curlers coming loose and dropping down to bounce on her back.

When she had disappeared Mcgonagall turned back to Snape and said, “Well, you were right about her.  I didn’t believe she would ignore my notes.  It’s not like I haven’t been here for decades.”

“Indeed.  Now, I need to go check on some potions before breakfast.” Snape turned to go and then stopped and looked at where Hermione was hiding, “Minerva, wouldn’t it be a shame if this story appeared in the paper?”

Mcgonagall looked over at the corner, locking eyes with Hermione, “It really would.  To think, a Ministry employee not doing their homework and disrespecting an ancient, magical school.  Why, it’s unconscionable, isn’t it Severus?”

“Completely.”

With that he turned in a swirl of black and strode off.  Hermione shifted her bag and slipped her wand away, then she hurried off to the library.

She knew just how she would write this article.

XXX

The new _temporary_ Headmistress was absent from the Great Hall during breakfast, not that anyone particularly cared.  They were just glad they didn’t need to listen to her before they could eat.  At least Headmaster Dumbledore had always saved his speeches for when the meal was finished - the rare times he actually even gave speeches, that is.

She didn’t make a reappearance until dinner that evening, now sporting brand new robes and - Hermione assumed - a new wand.

She was glaring around the Great Hall, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed.  Her gaze lingered for awhile on Harry, but he ignored it.  When she moved on her squinty little eyes locked with Hermione’s. They glared at each other, and then Umbridge gave a sickeningly sweet smile that made Hermione want to vomit all of the food she had just consumed.

The toad’s eyes moved on and Hermione began to wonder exactly what Unbridge hoped to accomplish here; especially now that the Headmaster’s office was off limits.

Perhaps Harry would lend her his cloak for some snooping, or maybe she could get him to do it for her.  It’s not like she couldn’t use him as a primary source.

_I’m beginning to recognize that look.  You’re planning something about Umbridge._

She jumped and looked across the Hall to the Slytherin table.  Draco was watching her, and she couldn’t help but blush at the realization.

Why had he been looking at her?

_I planned to ask Harry to spy on her._

_Good idea, he can use his cloak._

_And the Map._

_Map?_

_Oh, you didn’t know?_

_Know what?_

She smiled at him from across the room.

_Remember when you asked how I found you so quickly about two years ago?  And I wouldn’t tell you?_

He frowned.

_Yes, I’m guessing it’s this map?_

_Padfoot, Uncle Remus, Harry’s dad, and Peter Pettigrew made a magical Map of Hogwarts.  It shows where people are._

He gave her a look that was as crystal clear from across the Hall as it would’ve been if he was right next to her.

_Let me guess, Harry and you inherited it as soon as you entered Hogwarts._

She chuckled, earning odd looks from everyone around her - except Harry, he just rolled his eyes and sighed.

_No, Filch confiscated it years ago.  Fred and George stole it back.  I figured out they had it and bought it from them by-_

_By revealing you had been the one behind their glowing hair in second year._

She chuckled again and whispered, “Point.”  Earning an elbow in the ribs from Ginny.

“Hermione!” Ginny hissed, “You’re going to make people think you inherited the Black insanity!  Or that Dragon is your boyfriend!  You can’t keep your bloody eyes off him!”

Hermione winced and rubbed her ribs, the idea of being Draco’s girlfriend made her feel very odd.  She didn’t like feeling odd.

“We’re cousins! He’s not my boyfriend!” she hissed back.

“Ever heard of kissing cousins?” Ginny whispered.

“Point,” Harry said from across the table.

Hermione glared and tried to kick him under the table, but he had much quicker reflexes than she did and easily dodged.

When he smirked at her she sniffed and instead sent a thought to Draco.

_I’ll get Harry to spy.  Can you see if anyone in Slytherin has dirt on her?  I wrote to Percy Weasley for Ministry gossip._

_I’ll see.  Quite a few people at this table are treating me like I have the plague._

_Ask Davis, tell her it will help Theo._

_That might work.  She is the queen of gossip._

She almost said point out loud, but stopped herself.  She didn’t think her ribs were strong enough to withstand another one of Ginny’s elbow attacks.  That girl was almost pure muscle.  And the rest of her was sharp bones.

Instead she sent Harry three images in quick succession: the Map, his cloak, and Umbridge.  Harry grimaced, but nodded at her.

She then turned her full attention to the shepard’s pie sitting in front of her.  But even as she filled her stomach, her mind was spinning.  Opening lines came and went, along with turns of phrase and possible tones.  

She didn’t enjoy writing articles like this, they made her feel a bit like Skeeter, but this was a war and she was going to do her best to make sure their side was so large that Voldemort had no chance of winning, no chance of killing more people, no chance of hurting more families.  She wanted him to know that the public was so turned against him that if he won he would be the ruler of an empty land.  An evil island in a sea of countries that would never accept him.

And if she had to make a laughingstock of the Ministry of Magic then so be it.  It wasn’t her fault they refused to see the truth.  But it would be her fault if she did nothing to bring about enlightenment.  

She finished up eating and gathered her things.  

“I’ll be in the library until my prefect patrol.  I need to find a few books.”

Harry looked up from his plate, his mouth full to bursting with treacle tart.  She rolled her eyes, it was almost as if Padfoot and Aunt Andy had taught him no manners at all.

Ron had just taken a mouthful nearly as large as Harry’s, so it was Ginny who said, “Alright, we’ll see you later.”

“I’ll go with you, don’t have much of an appetite,” Neville said, and, indeed, his plate was barely touched.

She frowned in worry.  They kept saying Pansy would be healed and wake up soon, but so far nothing had changed.

The two Gryffindor prefects left the Great Hall and headed up to the library, a sad, if companionable silence hanging over them.  

They grabbed a table in the back and Hermione immediately delved into the shelves in search of research material for her homework.  She needed to get some things finished so she could start putting together an outline for the article after her patrols.

She was neck deep in ways to identify different poisons when someone cleared their throat, “Um, Hermione Black?”

She looked up to see a small little Slytherin first year.

“Yes?” She snapped, having been right in the middle of a very intricate sentence.

He took a step back and swallowed nervously, “Uh, I, uh, have a note.  From, uh, Professor Umbridge.”

Hermione frowned and held out her hand, “Let me see it.”

He practically threw it into her hand and ran off.  She scowled after him; annoyed that her plans for the evening were being interrupted.

“Your scowl is quite terrifying.”

Her hand tightened on the note and she looked up at Draco, who had wandered in, his bag slung casually over his shoulder.

“He interrupted me in an important part.”

Neville snorted from across the table, “People are always interrupting you at an important part.”

“Point,” Draco said, giving Neville a tentatively friendly smile.

Neville hesitated, but then returned it, giving Hermione a warm and fuzzy feeling, completely destroying her annoyance at being interrupted.

“Well, are you going to open it?” Draco asked, settling into a seat next to Hermione.

She unfolded the note and scowled.

“Our _temporary_ Headmistress would like to see me in her office at the earliest opportunity.”

“Our patrol starts in thirty minutes,” Neville said, checking one of the many small magical clocks around the library.

“You could go after patrols,” Draco said.

Hermione shook her head and started packing up her bag.  “No, if I go before I can use patrols as a reason to keep the meeting short.  She did say to come at the ‘earliest opportunity’.”

Draco raised a brow at her, “That’s a very Slytherin way of thinking.”

She shot him a smirk, “Our Aunt Andy taught me all she knew, and she was a glorious Slytherin.  Why, no one even realized her love for Uncle Ted until they eloped.”

“Plus,” said Neville, “she’s a Black.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Point.”

Hermione laughed, “I’ll see you boys in about thirty minutes.  Let’s go see what the toad wants.”

She left the boys to their work and headed out of the library.  Checking the note again she headed up to the fifth floor and wandered down a deserted corridor until she found a door with a piece of parchment stuck to it with a nail that said, “Headmistress’ Office.”

The entire setup screamed temporary and she grinned before taking a deep breath and wiping all emotion from her face.  Now composed, she gave the wood a solid rap.

The reply came in such a sickeningly sweet tone her stomach gave a lurch in disgust, “Come in!”

She opened the door. “You wished to see me, Headmistress?”

Umbridge smiled at the use of her _temporary_ title.

“Very much so.  I feel that in order to do my job properly I should meet with all of the prefects.  I saw the Head Boy and Girl already.  Please,” she gestured at a hideous straight-back chair in front of her desk, “sit.”

Hermione did so, taking the chance to look around the office.  All of the furniture was obviously old and well-used.  Quite at odds with the tender care the furniture in the other teachers’ offices received.  A single pink doily was draped over the back of Umbridge’s chair and two round plates, adorned with kittens, were stuck on a wall.  The only signs of personalization in the entire room - Hermione thought it quite fitting.

“I apologize for the lack of decoration.  There has been a small issue with the Headmistress’ Office and I am presently unable to access many of my things.”

It was all Hermione could do to keep a straight face as she murmured, “Oh, that’s alright, ma’am.”

Umbridge’s lips twisted in a smile that could barely be given such a title.

“Now, I have some questions, but it is my evening tea time, and I so hate to have my schedule upset.  Especially with all the changes going on right now.  So, would you mind having a cup with me?”  She gestured to the steaming tea set on her desk.

Hermione smiled, did Umbridge really think she could make Hermione like her?  Was she really such a fool?

“No, ma’am I don’t mind at all.  Who could ever say no to a cup of tea?”

“Very good, dear.”

The room was silent for a moment as Umbridge prepared two cups of deliciously scented tea, only speaking to ask how Hermione took it.

“One lump, no milk, please.”

“Here you go, drink up, before it gets any cooler.  I had forgotten just how cold this old castle got.”

Hermione sniffed the tea curiously, but didn’t notice anything odd. It wasn't as if Umbridge would be stupid enough to poison the heir to an Ancient and Noble House. Especially when there were witnesses to Hermione going to her office. The tea was a lovely shade of brown - like any good tea should be. She took a sip and felt warmth sink through her. It was actually remarkably good tea and she said so.

“Thank you, Miss Black.  I order it special from China.  Once you’ve had good tea you just cannot stomach anything less.”

Hermione found herself nodding as she took another, slightly longer sip.

“Oh, I know.  Padfoot, my father, will drink almost anything, but my Aunt Andy is more discerning.  She introduced me to good tea when I was very young and I’ve never been able to enjoy second-rate tea since.”

Hermione frowned a bit.  Why had she just rambled on about tea?  And her family?

“She has good taste then, your aunt.  Now, why don’t you tell me what duties you perform as a prefect?”

“Well, we patrol the halls five evenings a week, during and right after curfew.  Most of the time we just find students running late, but sometimes there are students snogging in broom cupboards.  I even found my brother once!” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Ah, your brother, Harry Potter, am I right?”

She took another, even longer sip of her tea, almost finishing it.  It really was delicious.  It had a sweet, fruity taste that made her think of spring.  “Yes, Harry’s not my real brother, but we see each other that way.  Always have, always will.”

“Now, can you tell me about what mental issues your brother has?  I understand he’s prone to hallucinations?  Brought on by nightmares from his traumatic past?”

She shook her head, beginning to feel a little light-headed and dizzy. She took another drink of tea, finishing off the cup.  “Oh, no ma'am.  Harry has had nightmares.  But he doesn’t hallucinate.  I’ve seen everything he has, and I don’t see things that aren’t there.”

Umbridge took Hermione’s cup and fixed her another serving of tea.  Hermione smiled and murmured, “Thank you.”  She reached out to take the cup and frowned as it seemed to swim before her eyes.  She blinked rapidly and gave her head a shake.  Her vision cleared enough that she was able to take the cup, but tea still sloshed over the side, soaking the sleeve of her robe, long enough to half-cover her hand.

A small part of her, far back in her mind and safely encased in glowing chains screamed that something was wrong, but she didn’t hear it.  All she could hear was a girly sweet voice asking her questions.

So many questions.

She smiled as she answered them, she loved explaining her thoughts.  And for someone to be so interested in her articles and experiences over the past year was a wonderful thing.

Plus, the tea was delicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! If you celebrate it :) If not, I hope you have a lovely weekend! 
> 
> I have a new dramione one-shot up that was a gift to my betas - Acceptance and Understanding. An Eighth Year fic, also featuring Hinny.
> 
> I also have a Drarry one-shot (If you aren't a Drarry fan, ignore this :) as I was part of the Drarry Secret Santa - Silver Hands. A Fairy Tale remix, NOT based on one Disney has done. Also has minor Wolfstar, Snarky Snape, and awesome Narcissa.
> 
> Hope you all have a lovely and safe weekend, wherever you are in the world! And don't fall prey to your own hubris. :)
> 
> Enjoy!


	44. A Perfect Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco grows concerned when Hermione fails to return from Umbridge's Office in time for patrols.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to JuliS (Julist) and Trinkisme (trinka belle) for being awesome betas.
> 
> Also, Happy New Year! Hope 2017 is better than 2016.

Draco looked up and checked the time, Hermione had been gone for over thirty minutes already.  He frowned, maybe she had gone to see Harry rather than return?  “Longbottom, do you know where Harry might be?”

“You should really just call me Neville, and he’s likely at Quidditch practice.  I heard him, Ron, and Ginny discussing it before dinner.”

Draco nodded and finished packing up his bag.  Then he headed out of the library and down the hall with Long- Neville.

_ Hermione?  Almost done?  Patrol time is starting. _

When she gave no response after a minute he asked again.

_ Hermione, what’s going on?” _

Nothing.

_ Hello!  Prefect Black!   _

Fear began to settle inside his chest.  He knew they had promised never to follow the chain without permission, but he’d never had her not answer before.  Something was wrong, he could feel it in his gut.

“Long- Neville, wait.  Something’s wrong with Hermione.  Watch my body, I need to go find her.”

Neville looked around, then grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him over behind a suit of armor.

“I’ve got you covered.”

Draco flashed him a grateful smile, “Thanks.”

Draco closed his eyes and then looked around his mind, seeing the ever-thickening chain between himself and Hermione.  He grabbed onto it and followed the links, the closer he got to the end the harder it was to move.  He frowned and pressed onward, fighting an invisible, almost sticky force.  He found her at the end of it; trapped inside a full cage made of the chain.  It was no longer beautiful, well, not as it had been before.  It was currently a fortress, complete with tall towers and gaps so small he could barely see Hermione.  It was doing a marvelous job of keeping the strange, syrupy fog away from her, but he could still see small threads of the viscous stuff seeping in.  She saw him then, and her eyes widened, she shouted, but no sound emerged.  As he watched she gripped the chains forming the fortress, rattling them, an expression of deep shame and fear on her face.  He looked around the rest of her mind at the cloyingly thick fog.  He pushed through it, slowly, fighting for each step, until he was close enough he could see out of her eyes.  

What he saw made him panic.

Hermione was sitting across a large desk from Umbridge, a cup of tea in her hand, and what had to be half a pot of tea spilled all over herself as she rambled on about-

He froze, all breath leaving his body.

How could Hermione be so BLOODY stupid?!?  Actually TRUSTING Umbridge!!!  What was she  _ thinking!?! _

“-my cousin, but do you see how gorgeous he is?  He’s also a lot more intelligent than I ever thought.  When he’s working on a problem his eyes get this sparkle, it’s distracting.  In fact-”

“Yes, thank you Miss Black.  Now, you were telling me about him needing a new wardrobe?  Because his bedroom was destroyed?”

“Oh!  Yes, you see, when I blew up the ceiling his room happened to be in the way and-”

Draco pulled back and stopped listening.  He waved to the trapped and silenced Hermione and shouted,” Neville and I are coming for you!”

She nodded, tears appearing in her eyes as she held up five fingers and pointed up.

He nodded, even as his breath caught, but then, that might have just been because he was moving as quickly as he could, fighting the fog for each single step.  He had to hurry, after all.

He reached his own mind and opened his eyes,looking into Neville’s worried expression.

“Well?”

“I think Umbridge slipped Hermione veritiserum.  She’s- she’s spouting off all sorts of-” he stopped, uncertain how to explain about Hermione calling him gorgeous.

Neville ignored the trailed off sentence.  “Alright, let’s go rescue her. Where is she?”

Draco shook his head, “Fifth floor, but we need a plan.  Umbridge is still-”

But he stopped, Neville was already halfway down the hall and heading up a staircase.

Draco huffed and then took off after the Gryffindor prefect.

Bloody Gryffindors.

Luckily, while Neville was tall, he was not built for speed - being more torso than legs, unlike Draco.  The Slytherin caught up to him easily before he was even a third of the way to the next floor.

“You know, we really need a plan!” 

Neville flashed him a confident smile, “We’ll manage.”

Draco scowled, but didn’t slow down.  Hermione really did need them.  Hopefully the chain fortress meant her most important secrets were safe, but…

No, he wouldn’t even consider right now what secrets and suppositions she carried in that brilliant mind of hers.  There was just no telling.

They had reached the fifth floor when a feminine shriek of outrage hit their ears.  Skidding to a halt they looked towards the sound.

“Do you think-?”

Draco shrugged and headed towards the noise.  Maybe Peeves had decided to attack Umbridge in her office?

The rounded a corner and then stopped in shock.

Luna stood in the corridor, holding a wand in her hand, with another tucked behind her ear.

Also in the corridor - and likely the source of the shriek - was Tracey.

Tracey stood in a small circle of chalk, so small that just a shift of her foot could send her outside of it.  Around her were little drops of red liquid on the stone, likely coming from the quivering bucket currently floating over the girl’s head.

And indeed, as Draco watched Tracey shifted her weight and the bucket wiggled, spattering a few more red drops of liquid onto the stone floor.

Yes, he had been right on the train.  He definitely did not need to know about this.

“Luna-what?” Neville said, regaining his ability to speak before Draco.

Luna turned and gave them a happy smile, “Oh!  Hello. I’m just helping Tracey learn control.”

“Control?”  Draco said, confused.

She nodded sagely, “Yes, control.  You see, accidently hitting injured people and falling in laps without permission isn’t good.  We published this method of learning control in the Quibbler last year.  Heard it from a very interesting-”

“Draco!  Get me out of here!!!”  Tracey shrieked, the bucket wobbling dangerously again.

“Um, Luna, what’s in there?”  Neville asked, pointing to the bucket.

Luna looked up at the bucket and smiled, “Oh, just some of Hermione’s color changing potion.  Nothing harmful.”

“Not harmful?!?  Not harmful!?!  I DO NOT want to look like a bloody tomato!!!”

“I really should report this…” Neville murmured.

Luna’s head tilted, and she reached up to touch her earrings as she looked Tracey over.  “I rather think you’ll resemble a radish, not a tomato.”

“Um, Luna, can you teach a lesson later?  We have a situation,” Draco said, attempting to cut off another outburst from a furious Tracey.”

Luna looked at him, “Oh?”

“Phoenix is unwillingly spouting secrets to the toad.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed and Draco could practically hear her thinking.

Then she gave an extremely creepy smile and turned back to Tracey.

“I think you will have learned your lesson if you do what I say.”

Tracey said nothing, but glared at Luna.

“You scream bloody murder and I’ll go get Umbridge to help you.  The boys will use the distraction to rescue Hermione while I explain how I found you and that you have no idea who did this to you.”

Tracey’s lips formed a thin, dangerous line, “Just what makes you think I’ll help you?”

“She has a point,” Neville said.

Draco ground his teeth, remembering Hermione’s tear-stained face.  Why were they wasting time?  Hermione needed them!

“Merlin’s Balls, Tracey!” He stomped his foot, making a sharp click as his heel hit the stone floor.  “You’ll help because you’re Theo’s best friend and Theo has joined this little group!  If Hermione is spilling secrets, she could hurt Theo!  Do you want that?!?  Get your bloody revenge on Luna later!  But don’t you DARE put Hermione at risk when doing so!  Got it?”

Tracey’s mouth opened and closed for a moment, then she crossed her arms and glared, “Fine.  For Theo.  But watch out Loony, I won’t forget this.”

Luna smiled, “I hope not!  If you forget this you didn’t learn your lesson.  Now, start screaming.”

And Tracey did.

Luna dropped the wand she was holding and took off running, while Draco and Neville followed.    She reached a deserted corridor and stopped to pound on a door with a piece of parchment nailed to it and Neville dragged Draco behind a threadbare tapestry just before the door swung open.

Tracey’s shrieks provided accompaniment as Luna cried, “Professor!  Someone is stuck!  And I’m afraid to touch the spell, in case it’s dark.”

There was silence, and then a sugary sweet voice said, “Fine, I’m coming.  Miss Black, just wait here and we’ll continue our tea party when I come back.”

“It’s alright, Headmistress.  I’ll just have another cup while I wait.”  Hermione’s voice sent a shiver down Draco’s spine.  It just sounded so...so... _ sweet _ .

A moment later he could hear Luna and Umbridge hurry past.  He started to count to twenty, just to be safe, but was grabbed and pulled out of their hiding place by Neville.

Bloody reckless Gryffindors.

The office door had been left open and Draco winced when they reached it.  Hermione looked…

Well, she certainly did not look like the Hermione he knew and...something.

“Hey, Hermione!”  Neville said.

“Oh!  Draco!  Neville!  Did you two come to join our tea party?”  She smiled at them as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“Actually, we were coming to find you.  It’s patrol time,” Neville said carefully.

Hermione frowned, “Really?  But I was having such a lovely time…”

Draco took his cue from Neville and smiled pleasantly, “I’m sure you were, but we really must go on patrol.  It’s growing late, and we can’t disappoint the teachers and students.”

She nodded and put her cup down on the desk, sloshing more tea out of.  Draco frowned when he saw the tea.  It didn’t look or smell like what the elves normally served…

“You’re right, can’t be a disappointment.  Nope, be a good prefect.”  She stood up and swayed, but caught herself on the desk.  As she did she hit the tea tray and sent it tumbling to the floor before even Draco’s reflexes could save it.

Scowling, he reached forward and slipped an arm around Hermione’s waist, stopping her from crashing to the floor.

“Huh, so tired…”

She leaned her head against his shoulder and he had to adjust his stance to compensate for the sudden extra weight.

Actually, it wasn’t much weight.  He leaned over and picked her up, bridal style.  He looked at Neville, who was staring oddly down at the smashed teapot.

“C’mon.  We need to get her out of here.  I think she was overdosed.”

“Right, one sec.”  He pulled a knife off his belt and reached down, poking at the fragments.  A moment later he stood up, a small sliver of something golden at the end of his knife.

Draco felt suddenly sick.

“Vititus,” Neville whispered.

“Forbidden Fruit,” Draco hissed, looking down at Hermione’s now unconscious face.  No wonder her mind had been so cloying.

“We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey,” Neville said, wrapping up the vititus in a handkerchief and sheathing his knife.

“No.” Draco shook his head and moved towards the door.  “Merlin knows what Umbridge will try if we go where she can find us.  Besides, we need to know what Hermione said, before anything is done.”

“That’s true, but she needs help.  Now.  Not later.  This is a small piece, but it was raw.  She’ll likely be dreaming for the next few hours and when she wakes up she’ll be delusional.  Plus-”

“I know!” His grip on Hermione tightened at the idea of having her hurt further by that Bitch.  “But I can’t let them reach her!  We don’t have the most powerful wizard in the world guarding the school anymore!  The bloody Ministry can go everywhere here!  Nowhere in the school is-”

He froze.

Hadn’t he had this problem before?

His potions room.  The door Hermione had broken his hand with.

“Follow me.”

They raced out of the room, Neville snagging Hermione’s bag on the way.

They ran away from Umbridge, Tracey, and Luna, up a steep stairwell and down a passage.  Then-

He came to a halt in front of an empty stone wall.  Before he had always pictured his desire to have a place to safely make Hermione’s cure.  

“Draco, what are you doing?”

He ignored Neville and closed his eyes as he walked quickly back and forth, cradling Hermione close.  He tried to think of his potions room, but this time his worries about Hermione kept springing up.

Was he doing the right thing?  He knew Umbridge mustn’t find them, no,  _ couldn’t  _ find them.  But what if this was a mistake?  Not taking her to Madam Pomfrey?  What if he couldn’t fix this?  What did he need to fix this?  He was nowhere near being a potions master. Should he go get Snape?  But what if Umbridge found him missing?  Voldemort had spies in the Ministry.  He could-

And then he heard Neville gasp.

Stopping, he looked up to see a solid wood door sitting in the stone wall.

“Well?  Open it!”  He barked at Neville, who rushed to do so.

Inside was quite different from where he had made her cure.  A hospital bed resided in the room, the sheets folded down.  He quickly walked over and laid Hermione down, looking around the room.  A chamber pot lay beside the bed, ready for her to be sick into.  There was also an assortment of chairs for people to sit in.  

And a potions table in the corner, just awaiting the ingredients and a qualified potioneer.

“What the-” Neville started.

“No idea.  I used it to brew a potion last year.  Hermione used it about a month ago to break my hand.  It seems to fit the needs of the user.  Now, we need potion ingredients.  Or, well, something.  I’ve never studied healing.  But I can brew almost anything if I have the instructions.”

“Let me see.”

Neville pulled out his small drawstring bag and reached in to pull out a simple, but ancient burgundy and cobalt tome.

“You have your family tome?  But what about-”

“I’m the direct line, my Gran held it in trust until last summer.  Now, shush.”

Draco left Neville to look in his tome and took the time to slip Hermione’s boots off.  Then he pulled out his wand and used his limited cleaning spells to get most of the tea off her robes.  It would be better to get her changed, but he didn’t think she would appreciate him doing that.  One of the girls should do it, but they were all out there, and he didn’t want to go look for them.  If only there was a-

He cursed.  He was a bloody idiot.

He grabbed his school bag and dug through it until he found his own drawstring bag.  When he pulled out the fake galleon he tapped it with his wand, like Hermione had told him to.

Phoenix Help in Dragon Secret Potion Room

The words barely fit on the coin, but it worked.

Neville yelped and Draco saw him yank a galleon out of his pocket.  “Warn me next time!”

Draco flushed, it hadn’t registered that the others would keep them in their pockets.  But he supposed that was the intelligent thing to do.  He wouldn’t be alerted if it went off in his bottomless bag.

“Sorry, Neville.”

But the Gryffindor prefect didn’t respond, he was once more searching his tome, frowning.

At a loss for what to do, he grabbed a small cloth nearby and got it wet, laying it across Hermione’s now sweating forehead. He brushed a damp tendril of hair off her neck, marveling at how soft her skin was.  He reached out to touch her cheek to see if that was just as soft, but froze with his hand a mere inch from her.

He gave his head a shake.  What was he thinking?

She was his cousin.

Plus, she was drugged and unconscious.

He pulled his hand back looked around, at a complete loss.  

His eyes fell on the Neville and then he felt like a complete idiot.

Malfoys had always done well with the more subtle arts, such as potions.  Perhaps his own tome…

It was worth a shot.

He’d only skimmed the tome since he got it, having stayed fairly busy, but it was worth a shot.

Determined, he got comfortable in one of the many chairs that gave him a view of Hermione and got to work looking for anything.

He was about a third of the way through a book, flipping past a potion that made the drinker more susceptible to suggestion when Neville let out a shout, “Ah-ha!”

Draco dropped his own tome, “Did you find something?”

Neville rushed over to the potions bench and laid his tome down, “Indeed, come look.  I KNEW there was something in here about lessening vititus symptoms!  My family has spent many generations working with herbology and I knew I had seen several spells and potions to combat accidents.  Can you brew this?”

Draco hurried over and looked down, reading the instructions.  It only took about an hour to brew and all the ingredients were in his school bag from their potions class earlier that day.  The tricky part was the timing.  To do this potion you practically had to have two people just to get it all done properly.

He nodded, “If you can prepare ingredients while I brew we can do it.  But we’re going to have to work fast.  Timing is extremely important here.”

Neville nodded, “Preparing ingredients has never been my issue with Potions.  It’s just the rest of it.”

Draco nodded absently, already pulling the ingredients out of his bag and setting them in the proper order.

This was going to be difficult, but at least they were doing something.  It was better than just sitting and watching Hermione in a drugged sleep.

XXX

A brilliant red train engine belted out white steam against a perfectly blue sky.  She smiled and laughed as she gave a hug to her mother.

“We’ll see you at Christmas!”  Her father said, patting her on the back before smoothing down her horribly bushy hair.

“I’ll write everyday!” She promised, leaning back to look up at her mum, who merely chuckled and shook her head in disbelief.

“I doubt that.  You’ll be too busy learning everything and making friends to write us.  Just tell us everything st Christmas, alright?”

She nodded and gave her mother another tight hug.  Oh!  She would miss them so much!

She stepped back and reached to grab her trunk, but bumped into someone.  She turned to apologize and looked into brilliant emerald eyes half-hidden by the worst case of bedhead she had ever seen.

“Oh no!  I’m so sorry!” 

He grinned at her, “That’s alright!  Are you a first year too?”

She grinned back and nodded excitedly.

“Want to sit with me?  I’m also sitting with my best mates.  Do you have any friends here?”

She shook her head, “No, I’m muggleborn.”

“My mum is muggleborn!  Over there.”  He pointed at a pretty red haired woman speaking with a group of other adults.  They were all smiling and laughing.

“My dad is the man with messy black hair next to her.”

“That’s a large group.  Who are the others?”

“They’re all my dad’s best mates or the parents of my friends.  Oh!  There they are!”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to a group of children the same age as her.

“Oi!  Guys!  I met someone!  She’s a muggleborn like my mum!  Oh!  What’s your name?”

He grinned at her and looked so happy she felt even more excited for Hogwarts.  If everyone was like this...she couldn’t wait!

“I’m Hermione Granger.  Who are you?”

“I’m Harry Potter!  And these are my mates.” He pointed at a red-haired boy with something on his nose.  “This here is Ron Weasley and that is Neville Longbottom!”  Their parents work with mine at the Marauder's Academy.  A private school for dueling and defense.” He pointed at a blonde-haired boy still sporting a bit of baby fat.  “And this,” he pointed at the most aristocratic boy there, “is Draco Malfoy.  His mum and my godfather are cousins.”

She smiled at all of them, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” said Draco, holding out a hand to shake hers.

As soon as their skin touched the world spun and she was standing by the lake at Hogwarts.  The day was warm and she was wearing a simple muggle t-shirt and jeans as she read under a tree.  Her arms bared to the world as she tried to soak in the sun after a long, cloudy winter.

The sound of birds singing floated through the air, accompanying the voices of students soaking in the sun all over the grounds.

“Hey, ‘Mione.”

She looked up, holding her hand to block the glare of the sun.  Draco towered above her, holding his broomstick.

She glared at him, “Get down here.  You’re too tall to loom over me like that.”

He chuckled and did what she said.  

“You know,” he said idly, “next week is the last Hogsmeade visit.”

“I know.  Hard to believe our sixth year is almost over.”

“Indeed.”

They sat there in silence for a time, her trying to read and him watching everyone.  She was only trying to read because he was so distracting.  Something about the sunshine on his hair and the casually elegant way he sat beside her.

Finally, unable to take anymore, she closed her book and stuck it back in her bag.

“Okay, Draco, what’s on your mind?  I can hear the gears churning from here.”

He bit his lip and looked down.

“I...well...I just thought we could go together.”

“We’ve gone to every Hogsmeade visit together.  Why is this one different?”

He turned red and looked away from her quickly, “I was thinking we could go without the others.  You know, just us.”

Her heart gave a lurch, “Like a date?”

He nodded quickly as he shot her a nervous glance.

For the first time in her life she found herself at a complete loss of words.  So, instead, she gave him a shy smile and nodded.

His face lit up even brighter than her parents’ dentist lamps.  It was blinding and she couldn’t help but return it.  She didn’t think she had ever been so happy in her entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, if you remember Dumbledore thinking about the original forbidden fruit incident (Chapter 15), and where Mcgonagall sent Umbridge for clothes last chapter, you may realize just where the toad got her hands on some vititus. Also, as a few people noticed, the way Hermione was acting last chapter - spilling tea and such - was not the way you act on veritaserum. As for why the links didn't notify Draco or Harry - Harry's will be explained in story, but Draco has never noticed when Hermione was in danger. In the DoM she said something and that's what made him realize something wasn't right. Because of this there's no reason for them to talk about it in the story. That's just not how their link works.
> 
> And, yes, Hermione is having one of those dangerously wonderful dreams Dumbledore spoke about almost thirty chapters ago.
> 
> Enjoy!


	45. The Shifting Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A potion is administered as the New Marauder's begin to plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super big thanks to my betas JuliS and trinkisme! :)

Draco had just finished bottling the potion with Neville when the door opened to reveal absolutely nothing.

It closed a second later and then Harry and Ginger appeared.  Ginger folding up the invisibility cloak as Harry rushed over to Hermione’s side.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“She underestimated Umbridge,” Neville said simply, cleaning his knife before tidying up the rest of the potion ingredients.

“How?” Harry ground out, looking utterly furious.

Draco didn’t blame him, now that he had Hermione safe and a potion to help with the effects of the vititus he had has own little bubble of anger growing

“Umbridge served tea and Hermione drank it.  That bitch had a small piece of vititus mixed in with the tea leaves,” Neville said.  He pulled out his handkerchief and showed the small sliver of golden fruit

“Where did she get vitius?  Could it have been-” Ginger started.

Draco interjected, “It couldn’t have been Barrow or Montague.  They both got seven years in Azkaban.  Don’t know about Mclaggen.”

Neville shook his head, “I’ve been keeping a close eye on Mclaggen.  He hates us, but he hates the Ministry more, believe it or not.  He wouldn’t have helped Umbridge.”

“Nev, you’re in NEWT level Herbology, does Sprout have a vititus tree?” Harry asked, his green eyes practically glowing with controlled anger.

“She used to, but it disappeared after the incident two years ago.  Maybe she has some fruit still?  Locked away?  But she wouldn’t have given it to Umbridge.  Do we know if Umbridge visited Professor Sprout at all?  She could have stolen it.”

A memory pulled itself up and Draco remembered now, Hermione telling him about Mcgonagall sending Umbridge to Sprout for clothes after she was thrown out of the Headmistress’ Tower.  They’d both found it amusing to picture the bow-bedecked Umbridge wearing Professor Sprout’s plain, serviceable robes.  He could just guess where Umbridge got the vititus, but that wasn’t important.  It wasn’t like they could prove it.

He grabbed one of the three potion bottles and approached Hermione’s bedside.  “It doesn’t matter how she got it.  We need to get her back.”

“And make sure she does this to no one else,” Harry added.

“Point,” Ginger and Neville said.

Draco sat down on the bed and lifted Hermione into a sitting position, Harry moved to help while asking, “What will the potion do?”

“Make her dreams fade somewhat,” Neville answered.  “One of the greatest dangers of vititus is becoming addicted to the dreams.  They’re supposed to be magnificent, showing the dreamer’s greatest desires.  We give this to her now, another when she wakes up, and a third dose an hour later.”

No one said what Hermione would dream that would be so addicting.  Draco guessed it would involve her parents being alive and no scars on her body.  The others likely assumed this as well.

He wondered what he would dream about.  Perhaps…

No.  That was dangerous.  You couldn’t bring back the dead.

And the only way to defeat Voldemort lay in the future, not the past.

Still…

Something poked his shoulder and he looked up to see Ginger staring down at him.

“You going to give her the potion or not?”

“Huh?  Oh!  Yes.”

With Harry’s help Draco administered the potion, watching her sleepily swallow it, smacking her lips and then smiling.

He couldn’t help but smile back down at her, his anger getting pushed back a bit, just grateful that they had rescued her.

“Now, we need to sneak back to our Houses and start planning revenge.  We’ll deal with the leaked information when Hermione wakes up and tells us.”  Neville decisively, having finished cleaning up the potion ingredients.

“Right,” Harry said, helping lay Hermione back down and opening his bag to pull out a battered piece of parchment.

He tapped his wand to it and said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

And, before Draco’s eyes, ink appeared and spread over the parchment, forming, ultimately, a map of Hogwarts complete with countless little circles.  All with names attached to them.

“Brilliant,” he couldn’t help but say.

Harry gave him an almost dangerous smile, “Indeed, and now the original Marauders are going to assist us in our quest for revenge.”

“And justice,” Ginger said, glowering at a little dot marked Dolores Umbridge on the Map.

“What happens if someone didn’t know the words?  And tried to use the map?” Draco found himself asking, already thinking of ways to magically password protect the journals.

“It insults them,” Harry said, tracing a route between where they likely were on the map and the Gryffindor common room.

“Brilliant.”

“Well, Harry, is it clear to sneak Hermione back?  We can put her in your bed.   If anyone notices they’ll just assume she had a nightmare,” Neville asked.

Harry shook his head.  “Filch is patrolling between us and the Tower.  Also, the common room has about two dozen people in it.  Many of them younger students we don’t know well.  We don’t want to start any rumors.”

“What about the path to Slytherin?” Draco asked.

“Even worse.”  Harry handed the map to Draco, who winced when he saw it.

Umbridge, McGonagall, Snape and Peeves were just between him and the dungeons.  Even if he took some of the secret passages he wouldn’t have an easy time getting back.  And - he looked up to see a clock appear - it was twenty minutes past curfew.

“I may have to stay the night here,” he said.  “We can plan some revenge while we wait for Filch to move.  Any of you have some Weasley items?”

Harry shook his head, “Hermione might, but I didn’t restock over the holidays.”

“I don’t prank, so no,” said Neville.

“I just have a few fireworks,” Ginger said, shrugging apologetically. “The twins don’t give family discounts and I used up my allowance on Christmas gifts.”

Draco took a seat in a comfortable chair and pulled out his journal and quill.  He gave them all a dangerous smile, “Let’s just see if they’ll donate to a good cause.”

He flipped open the journal to see the beginning of a conversation between Luna, Theo, and Weasley.  He read it over quickly.

_ Apple _ _: Ok, Moon, what did you do to Tracey?_

_ Moon _ _: just a lesson_

_ King _ _: i doubt that.  your bloody scary_

_ Apple _ _: You’re not your, you bloody pleb_

Draco snorted at the next bit, involving Weasley drawing a stick figure of Theo with his nose so high in the air he couldn’t see the stinky cowpie he was about to step in.  He put his quill to the parchment, but hesitated for a moment as more words appeared.

_ Moon _ _: I think you both need lessons_

_ King _ _: uh...thats alright sweetheart.  I dont need a lesson.  Just tell me whats wrong._

_ Moon _ _: apostrophes are your friend_

_ Apple _ _: No wonder Snape hates your essays.  Now, where is Dragon? What did that coin message mean? And, why is Tracey screaming bloody murder?_

Neville came over and watched as Draco began to write.

_ Dragon _ _: Umbridge tricked Phoenix and slipped a piece of forbidden fruit in her tea.  Moon was teaching Tracey a lesson and I bullied Tracey into helping distract Umbridge by using her friendship with Apple.  Grass and I got Phoneix to a secret room.  Prongslet and Ginger are with us._

The others were writing before Draco even finished.  He wasn’t even surprised to see the twins responding.  They’d likely opened a journal as soon as their coins had burned.

_ King _ _: WHAT??????_

_ Moon _ _: many many lessons to be given_

_ Apple _ _: that BLOODY BITCH!!!!!!!_

_ Gred _ _: we’ll send an owl with plenty of supplies_

_ Forge _ _: is Hermione alright?_

_ Gred _ _: yes, shouldn’t she see Madam Pomfrey?_

_ Prongslet _ _: Dragon and Grass got a potion from a tome.  Nothing else to do but wait and see_

Draco looked up to see Harry and Ginger sitting on a small loveseat pulled up close to Hermione’s bedside.  A narrow table lay before them with the map spread out beside Harry’s journal.

Neville snagged the quill from Draco’s fingers and scribbled in the journal.

_ Grass _ _: the potion will weaken the dreams.  two more to be given when she wakes._

_ King _ _: so she’ll be alright?_

_ Moon _ _: nice apostrophe_

Draco took his quill back.

_ Dragon _ _: We think so.  But I want revenge.  I’m sure she will, too.  When she awakens._

_ Gred _ _:  we have a few new, experimental things.  we’ll disguise them and send you an owl straight away.  Forge is gathering things right now._

_ Moon _ _: do you have a niffler?_

_ Apple _ _: Hagrid does.  I heard him saying Scamandor sent him a breeding pair last year._

_ Moon _ _: imagine one in her office.  breaking all her teapots, stealing all her bribes_

_ King _ _: I have some of that thing Phoenix slipped in our pumpkin juice before Christmas.  if we can get it in her drink at breakfast…_

_ Prongslet _ _: I’m going to loan Dragon my cloak to get to the dungeons.  If he can get the potion from King and bribe the house elves…_

_ Dragon _ _: I have a better idea.  One minute._

“Dobby!”

Instantly a little house elf appeared in the room, his pillowcase looking cleaner and fresher than Draco had ever seen before.  It made him wonder, seeing that, but he didn’t have time to dwell on thoughts of his father.  The living needed him.

“Yes, Master Draco?  Do you be needing me?”

“I do indeed, Dobby.  You see, my cousin, Hermione Black had been poisoned and,” he said hurriedly when Dobby’s eyes grew wide, “while we have mitigated the damage, we must get revenge.  And I need your help for that.”

Dobby’s head nodded earnestly, making his ears flap. “Anything Master Draco!  Mistress Hermione is a good witch, yes she is.  Just like Mister Harry Potter.  Bad people can’t hurt them for free.”

“Ron Weasley has a potion in his possession.  One that must be inserted into the temporary Headmistress’ morning drink tomorrow.  And only hers.  Can you do that with no one seeing you?”

Dobby’s hands twisted in the hem of his pillowcase, putting wrinkles in the pressed material.  “Dobby can, but Dobby is not supposed to be hurting witches…”

Harry stood up and came over, kneeling so he was on eye level with Dobby.  “This won’t hurt her.  Hermione did it to me a few weeks ago.  I found it funny, but Umbridge, she’ll likely find it embarrassing.  We’re trying to show her not to mess with us.  That we won’t stand idly by and let her drug people.”

Dobby’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates as they stared at Harry.  After a moment he nodded, making his ears flap again, and looked up at Draco.  “Yes, Master Draco, I can be doing that.”

Relief coursed through Draco and he instinctively smiled and said, “Thank you, Dobby.”

Impossibly, the elf’s eyes grew even bigger and then he flushed before popping away.

“Wait, couldn’t Dobby have moved us to our common rooms?” Ginger asked.

Draco shook his head, “No, unlike Malfoy Manor Hogwarts is spelled to stop house elves from transporting anyone but themselves.”

“How do you know that?” She asked.

He looked at her curiously, “Didn’t you ever read _Hogwarts: A History_?”

She flushed, “No, Hermione did though. She always just tells us what we need to know from it.”

He snorted when he saw that Harry and Neville also looked rather sheepish.  “Honestly, are you lot helpless without her?”

Harry shrugged, “Books and the knowledge contained within them are her things.  She likes telling us what she read.  Why should we deny her that?”

Draco had no answer to that, so he opened his journal again and saw a few new lines of writing; with the last one from Weasley.

_ King _ _: Dragon warn me when you send an elf next time.  I swear Dobby just scared a dozen years off my life._

_ Dragon _ _: Surprises build character._

_ King _ _: Lies_

_ Gred _ _: Forge is sending an owl now.  Should be there by breakfast.  We sent instructions with the experimental stuff.  Tell us if you need more._

_ Prongslet _ _: Thanks.  It looks like Filch has moved and most of the young students have gone to bed.  King, can you meet us in the common room?_

_ King _ _: sure_

_ Moon _ _: Apple, tell Davis thank you for helping with Phoenix.  Oh, and Dragon, what secret room?_

_ Apple _ _:  Will do._

_ Dragon _ _: Not sure it has a name.  Found it last May.  It changes and morphs to fit what we need._

_ Moon _ _: interesting... a shifting room.  I must see this._

_ Ginger _ _: I can show you tomorrow Moon, after quidditch practice._

_ Moon _ _: ok_

Draco shut his journal and stood up, watching Harry do the same.  

“I can levitate her while you watch the map, Harry,” Neville said, moving over and drawing his wand.

Harry nodded, “Sounds like a plan.  Draco, take the cloak, we have too many to use it anyways.  Give it back to me tomorrow.”

“Right,” Draco said as he took the shimmery bundle of fabric that Ginger held out.

They did a quick check of the room, making sure they forgot nothing and then moved out, Draco heading one way under the cloak with the others going another.

Later, safely in his own bed, he closed his eyes and followed the chain.  It was just as hard as before, her mind still coated in sticky fog, but, he thought hopefully, it didn’t seem nearly as dense.

Moving through it carefully he found the fortress made of chains.  Hermione was still inside, but she was no longer awake.

She was lying in a lightly glowing metal hammock, secure between the chain walls.  He cautiously approached the fortress and raised his hand, the chains shifted, forming a narrow arrow slit through which his arm fit.  He found her hand, running his thumb over the soft skin he whispered, “It will be alright, Hermione.  I’ll get you past this and then we can destroy that bitch.  Deal?  Just, Hermione, please, wake up.  Please.”

He wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not, but he thought her hand gave his a quick squeeze in agreement.

He leaned against the wall, the chains forming a small ledge for him to perch on as he settled in for a long night.

XXX

Hermione smiled up at Draco when he took her hand halfway into Hogsmeade.  He smiled back and gave her fingers a light squeeze, which she returned.

They walked on in silence, just the sounds of the woods and other students chatting around them in their ears.

When they reached the village they meandered through the streets, looking at all the window displays and laughing when they saw Theo gesturing wildly and trying to convince the owner of a small flower shop to send his mother a bouquet by owl for no extra charge - claiming that Luna had sent her own mother flowers on the last visit.

When they found Harry and Ginny snogging down an alleyway Draco teased them mercilessly until Hermione shut him up with a quick peck on the cheek.  Harry and Ginny laughed at the dazed look on Draco’s face and hurried off holding hands.

When they reached the Shrieking Shack Draco stopped her and gazed down into her eyes.  She felt her mouth go dry as she looked up into his silver orbs.

He put a finger under her chin and then leaned down slowly, she closed her eyes and waited, but his lips never touched hers.

Instead they brushed her ear and he whispered, “Hermione, please, wake up.  Please.”

She gasped and opened her eyes.  For a moment she was lost, no longer was she outdoors by the Shrieking Shack.  There was a silver and bronze chain surrounding her, supporting her, keeping her safe inside a glowing fortress.  She gasped and sat up, trying to reach out and touch the chain walls.  It was then she realized one of her hands was holding onto something.  She looked down and saw a pale hand holding her own.

Her gaze moved past the hand and followed the dark green velvet sleeve up until she found the man the hand belonged to.

She smiled, feeling a sudden release of all uncertainty.

“Draco.”

He grinned back at her and opened his mouth to speak, but she felt a tug from a slender crimson chain she hadn’t seen wrapped around her wrist.

She stared at it in wonder and then, with a single blink the cage was gone, leaving her lying in a bed, red curtains - the same color as the thin chain - surrounding her and a worried face under a messy head of dark hair looking down.

“Hermione!  Thank Merlin!  Here, you have to drink this!”

She frowned, but she trusted Harry.  She didn’t know why she was in a bed with him or where Draco had gone, but Harry had been her best friend since she was eleven.  Or...no...had she known him longer?

He helped her sit up and pressed a potion vial to her lips, she frowned but drank it.

The world tilted and swam before her eyes, she gasped and pressed her hands to her head, memories burning and changing inside of her.  Tears of pain and perhaps even sorrow burned at her eyes as Harry held her and a warm presence sat on a strong silver and bronze chain, taking on some of the pain, saving her from it, offering her support.  

She cried out when it ended, her mind completely blank for half a second before anger flared with the realization of what had occurred, quickly followed by a sense of loathing.  An enmity so strong it almost rivaled her hatred of Bellatrix Lestrange.

“That bitch is going to _die_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has woken up....now, how many of you are excited to see Umbridge get her due?


	46. A Good Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione deals with the vititus dreams. Revenge on Umbridge begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to JuliS and trinkisme for betaing this and listening to my ramblings as I piece together pacing and plot order.
> 
> Also, I just want to take the time to say a huge thank you to everyone reading this story. Whether you're a reviewer or a lurker, you inspire me to write more (granted, the reviewers do this more than the lurkers). The positive response this story is getting is what gets me to keep writing and pushing to get even farther ahead so I can reach the end and start giving you the two chapters a week I promised a few months ago. I'm trying to finish writing (but not posting) this before I leave Korea in March, but we'll see.
> 
> Thank you for all the kind words.

Draco sat up with a start, losing his grip on Hermione and her chain as the potion burned away the vititus fog.  He was breathing heavily, trying to reach back down the chain to her, offering support for the pain he knew she had to feel.  Pain he just wanted to save her from.

Then, as he made contact pain overwhelmed him.  Flooding through his brain, burning him, leaving odd images behind.  Images that made no sense.  There was his father laughing and chatting with Sirius Black and a man that had to be James Potter - the resemblance to Harry was spooky.  Another of a young him singing carols and wearing a Weasley sweater he had never before seen.  They made no sense, the images flooding him in bits and pieces - like muggle photographs.

He didn’t even realize he had cried out before his bed curtains were thrown back to reveal Theo and Blaise, their wands drawn and twin looks of worry on their faces.

Behind them stood only one bed with disturbed curtains.

“Draco?  What’s wrong?” Blaise asked.

“Is Hermione alright?” Asked Theo.

Draco nodded, trying to make sense of what his brain had seen, what his heart had felt.  

Then, words came floating down the chain, creating an intense surge of emotion he couldn’t identify fully.  Though he did recognize anger and an eagerness to fulfil what the words said.

_I’m going to kill that bitch._

_Yes._

_I want her destroyed._

_We have a childish prank set up for tomorrow.  Make her underestimate us and bruise her pride.  Then we can plan more._

_Good._

“Draco?”  Theo said, touching Draco’s shoulder and making him jump a bit.

“Oh, yes, Hermione is awake.  And she wants to roast that fat little toad alive.”

Blaise blinked in confusion, “Wait, what am I missing?”

Draco looked at Theo, “You didn’t tell him?  I’m surprised.”

Theo looked a bit sheepish, “Well, Blaise isn’t a Marauder and...uh...well…”

Now Blaise was looking at Theo in a very similar manner to how he had on the train.  “Theodore…”

“Um...well...I...uh…”

Draco sighed, “Blaise, do you love Theo?”

Both boys jerked and looked at him in surprise.

“What are you-”

“How do you-”

Draco cut them both off and pointed to the single mussed bed behind them.  They turned and looked at it.  Blaise was the one to recover first.

“So, you know about us.  Don’t say a THING to my mother.  Got it?”  A dangerous glint was in his black eyes.

Draco just arched an eyebrow at him.  He’d stared down Voldemort, Blaise was nothing on him. “I won’t if you answer one question.”

“What question?”

“Do you love Theo?”

“Draco!  Why-” Theo started, before he was cut off by Blaise slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Yes, I love him and I plan to stick with him through whatever happens with You-Know-Who and the bastard that tried to murder him before Christmas.”  His eyes glittered like hard onyx and Draco nodded.

“And your family?”

Blaise’s lips twisted into a frightening smile, “They’ll get over it, either way.  It’s not like they have a choice.  I’m not one of those puppets my mother keeps marrying.”

“Then why ask me to keep it a secret?”

Blaise shrugged and removed his hand from Theo’s mouth as he said, “She tends to do stupid things when I go against her wishes.  I’d prefer to save that until You-Know-Who has been disposed of by Potter.”

“You’re that sure Harry will defeat him?”

Blaise threw a long arm around the shoulders of a grumbling Theo, “Aren’t you?”

Draco nodded, refusing to voice the small pile of fears inside of him.  Fears he hadn’t even quite realized were there until this moment.  

An image of Hermione, twisted and pale, lying upon a pile of dirty rubble flashed in his mind, exactly as she had looked in that hospital bed last spring.

Yes, he thought Harry could defeat Voldemort, but at what cost?  Who would die next time the two sides clashed?  He’d already lost his father.  Who else would he lose?

This question haunted him as he said goodnight to his two roommates; Theo quietly telling Blaise what had happened with Umbridge and Hermione.

It sat there in the front of his mind as he burrowed under his blankets and sent Hermione one last thought.

_Goodnight Hermione.  I-I’m glad you're safe._

There was a long pause and then she quietly whispered.

_Goodnight Draco.  Thank you._

XXX

As soon as Draco said goodnight Hermione urged Harry to go to sleep, that she was fine.  That she needed time to think of a good revenge.  He didn’t seem to believe her, but he was exhausted and fell asleep holding her hand and humming after she promised to take the third potion in an hour.  She had to weaken the vititus dreams and the potions wouldn’t work if they weren’t taken immediately.  Even now, sitting in the dark boys’ dormitory, she could feel images and emotions - ones coated in a sickeningly sweet taste - offering themselves up to her, tempting her with their perfection.  Distracting her from the anger she felt at Umbridge.

She just wanted their perfection so, so badly.

She knew she had dreamed of her parents being alive.  Of all her friend’s parents being alive.  She just had to close her eyes and she saw herself sitting at a long dinner table in the Weasley garden.  There, next to her own mum - a woman she had only seen in a still, muggle photograph - was Luna’s mother, as she had appeared when Hermione last saw her, almost ten years before.  Across from them was Neville’s dad, making jokes with Harry’s mum.  And there, at the end of the table, sat Harry’s dad, laughing with Uncle Remus over some joke Padfoot was telling.

It all felt so real.

A sob rose up inside her, and she grabbed Harry’s spare pillow, burying her tears in the soft cotton.  

It wasn’t real.

None of it.

She had to tell herself that.

But, she knew, right now, exactly what it would have felt like to have her mother hug her.  To have her father jokingly chastise her on not brushing her teeth correctly.  To walk outside in the sun with her arms and legs bared to the world.

She knew what Padfoot and Uncle Remus looked like with no sorrow in their eyes, no scars on their faces.  

Another sob came out and she didn’t think.

She hurried out of Harry’s bed, racing across the stone floor and out of the room, the pillow clenched to her chest, false-memories threatening to overwhelm her.  Not because she wasn’t sure if they were real or not.  No, it was because she knew they weren’t real.

The common room was empty and she stopped in the middle of it, her breath coming hard and fast, interlaced with small sobs and hiccups as tears streamed hot down her cool face.  She could feel her bond with Harry trying to alert him, but she shut it down as she had during the autumn.  He needed sleep.  And she needed to deal with this by herself.

She stood there, in the center of the empty Gryffindor common room, crying for what could never be as snow fell silently outside the window.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, but her muscles screamed in protest and the tears had dried upon her face by the time she tried to move.

She stumbled, almost falling as she dropped the soggy pillow, but was caught by a strong hand gripping her forearm, holding her steady.

She frowned, her brain feeling foggy as she looked up at the one Gryffindor she despised.

“What are you doing?” she tried to snap,but  her voice simply coming out as a rough croak.

“You-you have to take this.  Right?”

He held up the potion Harry had given her earlier.  The one she had left sitting on the small table beside his bed.

“What-?”

“You, uh,” he looked away and grimaced, “didn’t put up a silencing spell.  I heard what happened to you.  I saw you leave, but it’s been an hour and, uh, well…” He scuffed his foot on the thick rug under their bare feet.  “I have to make up somehow, for what happened.  You’ve got to drink it.”

He was acting so differently from how he normally did that all she could do was simply stare at him as he let go of her forearm, she only swayed a little bit as he moved to take the wax seal off the bottle.

She stared at it, memories of tea floating in her head, “Wait!”

He froze and she took the vial from him, examining it in the dim firelight.  It was one of Draco’s potion vials, complete with a little D.M. engraved on the bottom.  The slytherin green wax was untouched around the cork.  Everything looked as it had before.  She pulled out the wand stuck in her robe pockets and cast a quick diagnosis spell.

Nothing had been tampered with.

Rather smartly, Mclaggen said nothing about her checking over the potion.

She broke the wax and pulled out the cork, taking a deep breath before swallowing the light orange liquid.  It burned going down, unlike the two previous doses.  She could feel the memories, the dreams, fading, becoming weaker.  As they did so she felt like crying again, as if she was losing a part of herself.  

She could feel the sweet, sticky fog being burnt away, leaving holes and gaps, forcing the dreams to the back of the mind, where she had trouble recalling them.

Still, she tried, reaching back into her mind, wanting to save what glimpses she had of her parents, but what came up was not them.  Instead, she saw Draco sitting beside the lake, a flush on his cheeks and a look in his eyes that made her heart beat faster.

She gasped and jerked away, shoving that memory away.

“Are you alright?”

She looked up at Mclaggen, concern on his face.  This expression, so out of character, brought her back to reality.

“Yes, what-”

“Hermione?  Where are- Mclaggen, what the hell are you doing?”

Harry’s angry voice came spewing out of the stairwell as he hurriedly descended the steps two at a time.  His wand was out and he was glaring at the older boy.

Mclaggen hurriedly stepped back; putting his hands in the air, “I just brought her that potion you told her to drink!”

Harry’s eyes moved to Hermione and then they widened when they saw the empty vial in her hand.

“Hermione!!!  You actually _drank_ that potion?!?  After Mclaggen gave it to you?!?  Did you learn NOTHING from Umbridge earlier!?!”

Now, with the dreams weakened, as well as the emotions they evoked, she felt her own shame and anger at herself for drinking the vitius laced-tea. Still, she felt bad enough as it was, she didn’t need her bloody brother lecturing her!  

“Of course I learned!  I checked the potion!  It was untouched!”

Harry approached, scowling, his eyes filled with disbelief as he stopped mere inches from Mclaggen, “Really?  I don’t believe it.  He’s done nothing to show he’s changed.  He’s still just an egotistical, prejudiced prick.”

Hermione gaped, “Harry, what the-”

But before she could finish Mclaggen had lowered his arms and given the younger boy a hard shove, “Shut up, Potter.  You don’t know a bloody thing about me.”

Harry stumbled backwards from the force of the push, his wand lowering as Mclaggen shouldered past and back up the stairs.  

Hermione watched him go and then looked at her brother, “Yes, I made a mistake.  It won’t be repeated.”

She turned and headed for the girls’ tower.

“Hermione, wait!”

She froze and spun to glare at him.  “What?” she snapped.

He gulped and gave her a hesitant smile, “I’m sorry.”

She stared at him, her emotions in turmoil, while her brain struggled to catch up.

“I-I was just so worried before...and then when I woke up to find you gone and Mclaggen’s bed empty...after what happened two years ago…”

She took a deep shaky breath, “I accept your apology, Harry, but I’m still upset.  Goodnight.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

He nodded, “Goodnight.”

She turned and, without looking back, headed up the stairs.  Halfway up Harry sent her two images.  One of her lying bandaged and tied down on a hospital bed, the other of her in a strange room with Draco sitting beside her.  

Tears flooded her eyes as the emotions attached to those images swept over her.  She gave a sob and raced up the rest of the steps, hurrying into her bed, drawing the curtains, and getting up a silencing spell just as the next sob tore itself out of her already sore throat.

She cried until there was no moisture left in her body, and, as she drifted off to sleep a memory returned unbidden, to the front of her mind.

She fell asleep smiling, her hand clasped in an imaginary Draco’s.

XXX

Hermione woke early and penned a short letter of complaint to the Ministry.  She assumed it would be ignored, but knew if she did it and it was ignored she would have more ammunition against the Ministry.  Much as she wanted to walk downstairs and kill Umbridge, she knew she couldn’t.  She had to stay on the right side of the law.  Revenge had to be taken slowly and in ways that were impossible to prove or fight against.  It was pointless to tell Professor Mcgonagall or Professor Longbottom about the vititus.  Not with Umbridge as headmistress and the Ministry behind her.  No matter how illegal the act was, with no proof, they would not be believed.  Not by the Ministry.  No one would examine her memories.  It would be just like before.  Nothing would change.  Not until the Ministry truly understood and recognized that Voldemort was back.  That Hermione, Harry, and Ginny hadn’t lied last year.

No, they’d have to get creative to get justice.

As soon as Hermione walked into the Great Hall she felt a pair of beady little eyes on her.  Eyes that were filled with malice and frustration at Hermione’s normal appearance.

Honestly, she still felt off-kilter, and was using all of the skills Aunt Andy had taught her to appear otherwise.  While the bright winter sun shining off of fresh snow had done a lot to alleviate the shame and emotional pain caused by the events of the previous night, she had only been left with more questions.  Questions that even now, when she was thinking more clearly, were still impossible to answer.

She was terribly confused under her burning rage at Umbridge.  

Why did she see herself walking and holding hands with Draco?  Had that been a real date in Hogsmeade?  Did she want to date Draco?  No.  It couldn’t be true.  He was her cousin.

Ginny’s comment came floating into her mind - _kissing cousins_ …

But…

No.

She had to stop.

She couldn’t let Umbridge and her vititus mess with her mind any further.  She’d already had a complete breakdown the night before.  She couldn’t do it again so soon.  Especially not by dwelling on dreams.  That was the road to madness.

Still….

Her eyes sought out Draco at the Slytherin table as she sat.  Her heart gave a thump and heat flushed her skin when her eyes met his.

 _Good morning_ , _Hermione._

_Morning._

He grinned at her and winked, making her breath catch.

_Keep your eyes on the toad when she takes a drink.  I heard you know this potion well._

She absently nodded and took a seat between Ginny and Ron, sparing Harry a small glance, still annoyed with him for last night.

As she sprinkled raisons on her porridge she glanced back up at the head table as Umbridge lifted her teacup to her lips.

The second her lips touched the hot liquid an explosion occurred.  Tea - more than could be contained in that tiny cup - or even a hundred tiny cups - exploded all over the _temporary_ headmistress’ face, dousing her pink robes and bow as her mousy brown hair was plastered to a face now flushed cherry red from the piping hot tea.

The entire hall feel silent as all eyes focused in on the shocked and dripping toad.  

Satisfaction welled inside of Hermione, especially as it was clear that the twins had managed to improve the potion.

 _A good start_.

She smiled at Draco’s words, just as the toad’s beady eyes locked on Hermione’s own amber ones.  

The next second Umbridge had shoved herself away from the head table.  Her shoes made loud squelching noises as she stormed - dripping the entire way - through the house tables and to the door.  As she passed by the Gryffindor table there was a loud click and the flash of a bulb as Colin Creevy aimed his camera at her.  She froze and glared at him.  She made to grab the camera, but Mclaggen quickly snagged it from a gaping Creevy, holding it out of Umbridge’s reach.  So, instead, she held up one fat, shaking finger and pointed it at Creevy, “You!  Detention!  My office!  After dinner!”  Then her attention moved to Mclaggen, “You too!  And bring the camera or it’s Azkaban for you!!!  You, criminal, are still on probation!!!”

The entire hall gasped as Umbridge spun around - spraying hot tea droplets everywhere -  and continued on her way to the exit.  There she paused and turned, her face beginning to steam as she screamed, “I want the Heads of House in my office.  Immediately!”

No one moved as she disappeared.  The entire Hall sat in complete silence, until, rather abruptly, Hagrid let out a loud guffaw.  It was followed, a second later, by a small giggle at the Ravenclaw table, which lead to several high-pitched snickers at the Slytherin table, and then the entire Hall was laughing - Hermione among them.

But, even as she laughed, she slipped off of her bench and down to where a pale Mclaggen was sitting.

“Give me the camera.”

He didn’t respond.

“Mclaggen.  I need that camera!”

He held it tighter, “No...I can’t…”

But, before he could say what he couldn’t do Professor Longbottom was there.  “Hermione, let me handle this.  Go back to your seat.  Cormac, come up to my office. You too, Mr. Creevy.”

Hermione watched the three of them, as well as the camera containing one of the best pictures she could ever hope to see, walk away.  She was disappointed, but silently hopeful that Neville’s mum would be able to do something and get her that picture.

The laughter had begun to subside when Professor Mcgonagall stood up and cleared her throat.  All eyes turned to her, “Finish your breakfast and go to class.  Classes will proceed as normal.”  She looked up and down the head table. “Professor Sinistra will oversee the rest of breakfast.”

Hermione retook her own seat between Ginny and Ron as Professor Mcgonagall left the hall, along with Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Snape.

Before Hermione could finish drizzling honey on her porridge the morning mail arrived, swooping everywhere, though there seemed to be less than normal.

“That’s odd.  I don’t see the twins’ owl,” Ron said as he looked around.

“Why, were we expecting one?”

He nodded, “They said they were sending us a supply of things last night.”

Hermione froze, her spoon halfway to her mouth, “Uh oh…”

Both Weasley’s looked at her.

“Hermione, what is it?”  Ginny asked.

“Last night...I remember telling Umbridge that I own part of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes...that they send me things for free regularly…”

Ron let out a solid curse that drew Harry and Neville’s attention.

“Ron?  What’s wrong?”  Neville asked.

“Hermione told Umbridge about our Wheezes supply,” Ginny answered, making Harry curse.

“I bet she had the owl intercepted.  Don’t think that’s legal,” Neville said.

“I don’t think she cares,” Hermione spat.  “Drugging me wasn’t exactly legal either.”

“Point,” the others said together, drawing the attention of Dean and Seamus, as well as a few other Gryffindors.

“What do you mean she drugged you?”  Dean asked.

Ginny quickly explained what had happened the day before, causing fast rumours and angry comments to race up and down the Gryffindor table.  Hermione watched as Pavarti Patil jumped up and hurried over to her sister at the Ravenclaw table.  A few minutes later Hermione saw Davis get up from the Slytherin table and join the twin girls, before she scurried back to hold court at her own House table.

_The story has grown.  Apparently Umbridge held you down and force fed you the forbidden fruit.  Neville and I, with the help of Luna and Tracey, rushed in and rescued you.  Obliviating that witch and then magically curing you of any vititus side effects with ancient family magic.  There’s some debate on if the magic is Malfoy, Longbottom, or Potter, since all three of us are technically the heads of our House and so must have our family tomes._

_Oh dear Merlin…_

_Indeed._

She was overwhelmed as talk and rumours continued to explode.  Several people approached her for questions, but she found her friends running interference.  She gave up on her porridge halfway through and flashed Harry a quick image of the Defense classroom.

_I need to make my escape._

_Hold on, I’m coming over._

Harry sent her an image of Draco approaching and she turned in her seat to see him approaching.  She stood up, along with Harry, Neville, Ginny and Ron.  Luna appeared from somewhere, right behind Draco.

They formed a sort of wall around her as they left the Great Hall.  Heads craned to follow them, no one quite believing a Ministry employee - especially an undersecretary to the Minister of Magic - would use forbidden fruit on anyone, let alone the heir to an Ancient House.

A few people followed them into the entrance hall, but no further.  When they were almost to the Defense classroom Luna and Ginny said goodbye and went to their History of Magic class together.

The five sixth years slipped into the empty Defense room and grabbed a group of desks near the back.  

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, throwing himself into his chair and dumping his bag on the floor, “I don’t think even Cedric Diggory got that much attention during the Triwizard Tournament.”

Hermione sank into a seat and put her head in her hands, flashes of everything she had told Umbridge the night before moving through her mind.

“Whose bright idea was it to tell the entire school?” Draco asked.

“Dean and Seamus overheard us, Ginny told them the whole story,” Harry said.  She heard him plunk himself into a chair next to Ron.

“Frankly, I think telling everyone is a good idea.  Puts them on their guard, in case she tries it on someone else,” Neville said.  She heard him neatly setting out his supplies at the table behind her.

The table she was leaning on shifted a bit and she looked over to see Draco settling in next to her.  She looked at him in mild bewilderment, he usually sat with Theo.

“You’re likely right, Neville.  Still, the attention we’re going to get and the rumours starting aren’t going to make things easy.”

“I told her yesterday about how I write the articles and where I send them.  She’ll steal any article I try to send by owl about all of this,” Hermione said, burying her face in her hands again.  Draco was becoming much too distracting to look at.  Especially since his appearance kept bringing up bits of the vititus dreams.  Bits she didn’t think it was safe for her peace of mind to dwell on.  

“We could try to send it from Hogsmeade in two weeks,” Harry said.

“I could pay a Slytherin firstie to send it for you,” Draco suggested.

“Why not write it in the journal?  Have the twins copy it out and send it?  Did you tell her about them?”  Ron asked.

Hermione looked up, staring at a singed training dummy as she thought quickly, tearing through the multitude of broken memories in her normally tidy mind.

“Noooo….I don’t think I told her about them…. I know my link with Draco kept a number of things safe from the vititus effects.  Like my chain with Draco or the blood wards.  The journals and coins were there, too.  Same with the prophecy, since they’re all rather tied together in my memories.  Just all the little things. And even then, she had to know how to steer me.  I kept getting sidetracked…” She trailed off, remembering how she had kept talking about Draco.

All four boys exhaled in relief, and she even felt some tension leave her own shoulders.

“Well, that’s a bit of a relief,” Harry said.

“The chains were forming a fortress when I went to find you.  I do wonder why the blood wards didn’t alert Harry that you were in trouble.”

She looked over at Draco inthought, “I think it’s because I never felt in danger.  I was utterly happy to spill anything.”

He shook his head, “No, inside your head.  The part of you that was behind the chain fortress, that part of you knew exactly what was going on.”

“The chains,” Neville said, “the family magic may be stronger than the blood wards.  Especially as Hermione is of age and Harry is close to it.  Don’t they break when the witch or wizard reaches their majority?  Or just when they stop living with the ward anchor?”

Fear suddenly stabbed at Hermione and she spun to lock eyes with Harry, sensing the same fear as him.  

To lose their connection…

“Well, shit, that’s a complication,” Ron said as the classroom door opened, the other NEWT level Defense students joining them.

Hermione buried her head in her hands once more, breathing deeply as she tried to regain control of her mind and emotions.

She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and she looked up to see Draco staring down at her, his hair glinting in the sunlight streaming through the window.

He smiled and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze just as Harry sent her an image of a photograph Padfoot kept on his desk.  It was a simple picture, just Padfoot, Harry, and Hermione sitting in the garden at Black Cottage the summer before Hogwarts, but Hermione knew what it meant.  About the talk Padfoot and Uncle Remus had with the two of them after the picture was taken; how whatever happened, they would always be there for each other.

She turned and smiled at Harry, catching his eye, before looking back at Draco.  She reached up and patted his hand, an involuntary flush appearing as she remembered the dream of holding hands with him in Hogsmeade.  

She dropped her hand and looked away just as the office door opened and revealed a relieved looking Mclaggen, followed by Professor Longbottom.

The sight of Colin Creevey behind them reminded her quite strongly of what had happened that morning, as well as last night.  

She couldn’t afford to focus on whatever was messing with her emotions about Draco right now.  

She really, really couldn’t, but she had a feeling that it wasn’t entirely her decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Mclaggen. Did ya'll forget about him? 
> 
> Also, was not the image of pipping hot tea exploding on Umbridge glorious? Not a major thing, but certainly a good start. Just wait to see what Hermione does to her in the next chapter...


	47. Revolting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and her fellow students begin to give Umbridge the respect she deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to JuliS and trinkisme for betaing this and just being awesome.
> 
> Also, thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter. Reviews are the currency on which fanfiction is founded. I appreciate and respond to every one I get, even as they push me to write faster and better. :)

Draco felt hyper-aware of Hermione as they stood across from each other, listening to Professor Longbottom give instructions.  He was having trouble focusing on the professor’s words, but it was just a review of silent spell-casting.  For most of the first semester they had practiced silent spell-casting on training dummies, before moving on to silent shield spells and disarming with an opponent.  Right before Christmas they had begun casting minor jinxes and hexes silently.

“Now, you can use disarming spells, minor jinxes, minor hexes, and shields.  No permanent damage can be caused and everything must be silent.  Let’s see how much you remember from the autumn.  Everyone has a partner?”  She looked around the room, confirming this before nodding sharply.  “Alright, now, assume a dueling stance and-”

She stopped as the classroom door swung open, revealing the last person any of them wanted to see.

A pleasant smile appeared on Professor Longbottom’s face, one that did not reach her eyes.  “Good morning, Madam Umbridge.  May I help you?”

The toad’s lips twisted into a thin smile, “I’m just here to observe.”

She waddled over to one of the desks at the back of the room, pushing someone’s things out of the way and taking a seat before looking expectantly up at Professor Longbottom, “Carry on.”

Neville’s mum stared at the intruder for a moment before purposefully turning her back and addressing the class once more.  “Now, assume a dueling stance.  Remember, this a review of silent casting.  I want to hear no verbal-”

“Hem, hem.”

Professor Longbottom froze and pasted a smile on her face before turning to look at Umbridge.

“Yes?”

The toad smiled sweetly, reminding Draco of the sticky fog that had invaded Hermione’s mind and removed her free will.  “I am curious how this can be a review, Professor.  Surely they cannot have already learned silent casting.  Is that not a seventh year skill?”

“No, it is a sixth year skill for transfiguration, charms, and defense against the dark arts.”

She scribbled something on her clipboard.  “Ah, carry on.”

Professor Longbottom once more turned her back on Umbridge and addressed the class.  “Dueling stances, please.  Now, begin.”

Hermione attacked quickly, Draco got a shield charm up in time.  Before he could even think of attacking another spell flew through the air and he felt his shield weaken. When the third spell hit it he dodged the right, nimbly spinning without tripping on his robes.  Silently he thanked Alianore for all her forced practice.

As Hermione turned to face his new position he shot off a tripping jinx, she tried to get a shield up, but wasn’t quite fast enough.  She tripped and fell as he quickly followed up with a disarming spell, but she rolled out of the way before leaping to her feet.  He saw her wince as she stood, likely the fresh skin on her thigh pulling.

His distraction cost him dearly, a spell caught him full in the chest.  He felt his hair stand on end and then grow heavy.  A whiff of flowers hit his nose and he groaned as he realized what she had done to him.

Another spell came his way and he twisted to his side, shooting another spell at her.  She blocked just as a horrendous shriek filled the air.  Everyone froze and he turned slowly to look directly behind him.  There sat Umbridge, her clipboard forgotten, her hands now held up as her nails began to grow.

And grow.

And grow.

When they were about a foot long they began to curve and twist, braiding themselves together until her hands were effectively chained in front of her.

_We Blacks are a nasty bunch._

He turned to look at Hermione.  Her face showed no emotion, but her eyes…

He gulped and felt heat coil in his stomach.

No, she definitely wasn’t just his cousin.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Madam Umbridge.  I should have told you to put up a shield charm.”

The false sweetness in Professor Longbottom’s voice was so thick Draco couldn’t help but smirk a bit.  

“This-this-this is unconscionable!!!  This is not a simple jinx!!!” Umbridge squawked, trying to stand up without the help of her entangled hands.

“Are you sure?  I could have sworn I saw it used during my time at Hogwarts.  Yes, I most definitely saw it then.  Here,” she nodded to Daphne, “why don’t we have Prefect Greengrass escort you the Hospital Wing? I could fix you up, but I have a class to supervise and we can’t have me shirking my duties.  I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will have you sorted out before lunch.”

_I just bet she saw it during her years at Hogwarts.  It was your mum that put it in my tome.  And from her notes it sounds like she passed it on to Regulus Black._

Knowing what he knew now about his mother and her time here, he wasn’t surprised.

_I imagine it’s hard to do many things with your own fingernails binding your hands._

_Indeed._

Before the door could close behind Daphne and Umbridge the toad stopped and turned around, she glared at Hermione.  “Miss Black, detention in my office. Tonight.”

Professor Longbottom cleared her throat, “Excuse me.  May I ask why Miss Black is getting detention?”

Umbridge’s lips thinned, “She attacked a teacher.”

Professor Longbottom’s brows rose all the way to her hairline.  “Really?”  She looked at Hermione, “Miss Black, were you aiming for out _temporary_ Headmistress?”

Hermione shook her head, “No, professor.  I was trying to disable my dueling partner, Draco.  He dodged the spell, don’t think he realized a Professor was behind him.”

“Right.”  The professor turned back to Umbridge.  “You see?  Just a simple classroom accident.  These things happen when teaching magic.  As I’m sure you remember from your own studies.”

Umbridge glared, her face turning a brilliant red.  She spun around and shoved passed Daphne, sending the smaller girl into the doorframe and making her wince.  Instantly Draco saw the other students tense, even those that quite happily supported the Ministry.  Daphne was an utter sweetheart and everyone adored her, no one liked seeing her abused - even those that normally didn’t care for Slytherins.

Daphne turned to follow the _temporary_ Headmistress, but was stopped by the professor.

“Miss Greengrass, it appears that Madam Umbridge can find her own way.  Why don’t you pair back up with Miss Turpin?  Then we can resume our duels.  This time, please, try to focus on shielding, not dodging.  Understand?”

Everyone nodded and resumed their dueling stances.  As Draco once more paired up with Hermione he found himself struggling to keep up with her.  Not because she was that much better than him - though she was better - but rather because he was trying to come to terms with his new found realization.

And, when he found himself flat on his back, his hair still masquerading as flowers, his legs bound together, and his wand gripped in her hand as she smirked down at him, he found himself wondering just why it had taken so long for him to realize that she was an intensely attractive witch.

A witch who was most definitely NOT just his cousin.  And, while he knew it wasn’t exactly safe to think of her this way, he didn’t think he could stop himself from doing so anymore.

XXX

By lunchtime the entire school was in semi-revolt.  After the first class students spent their break sharing what had happened in the Defense classroom.  That, on top of what had occurred in the Great Hall that morning spelled Umbridge’s doom.  Upon having her new nails removed she moved on to watching Transfiguration.  There the fifth year OWL students - with Luna smiling happily at the helm - kept bumping each other at the ‘wrong’ time.  Why, it wasn’t their fault when one Ravenclaw boy accidently turned the lace on Umbridge’s collar into a snake.  Nor when someone else turned her chair into a pig.  They were just so excited to be turning inanimate objects into animals.

After lunch she was outdoors, watching Hagrid teach Care of Magical Creatures.  Now, Hermione only heard about the events later, from Dennis Creevey, but it was a lesson on Nifflers and no one had told Umbridge that wearing jewelry was a bad idea.

A very, very bad idea.

At dinner, Katie Bell was regaling the entire Gryffindor table with Umbridge’s appearance in the seventh year Divination class.  There she had her death and dismemberment prophesied by every student - in graphic detail.

They only wanted to show off their skills.  It wasn’t like they made the tea leaves, crystal balls, or palm lines say such terrible things.

At dinner Hermione noted that Umbridge tested all of her food and drink with her wand before summoning a house elf and forcing it to taste everything.  Her anger at the woman grew at this sight.  The elf was not a Hogwarts one.  It was also the most pitiful creature she had ever seen, it’s toga - formed from a filthy sheet - so ragged that it could do nothing to protect the elf from the elements.  There were bandages wrapped around the elf’s ears and fingers, making it difficult to pick up the spoon to taste the soup.

They would have to slip that nasty woman things a different way.

After dinner she and the rest of the New Marauder's met in the Shifting Room - as Luna dubbed it.  Through the journals they communicated with the twins, who were severely disappointed their package had been intercepted.  Theo recommended they look into filing a report at the Ministry.  They liked this idea, and planned to ask Percy if he could assist them.  No one knew the paths through the Ministry bureaucracy like their brother did.  After all, they had merely been sending new products for their of-age silent partner to look over.  No one could prove she had planned to use them on anyone.  Or perhaps they would go with suspected corporate espionage from Zonkos.  Either one could cause the Ministry a lot of annoyances.

They also made plans to try and use one of the secret passages to sneak in some products.  Fred figured he could take a short visit to Honeydukes and slip into the cellar.  Draco offered to summon Dobby and have him transport the items, but Hermione protested, not wanting to potentially cause trouble for the house elf.

George wanted to tell the Order what was happening at Hogwarts, but Hermione asked him not to, saying that Neville’s mum or Professor Mcgonagall would be keeping everyone updated.  There was no point in having anyone ask just how the twins were communicating with everyone else while owls were being intercepted.

That evening, when Harry went to bed, he had found a copy of the picture Colin Creevey had taken of Umbridge.  He had instantly contacted Hermione and given her the photograph.  She planned her entire article around it and began to get to work.  Still, she needed something more than just her being drugged.  Umbridge had to be shown as the monster Hermione was sure she was.

The next few day passed in a rather similar manner.  Umbridge sat in on classes where things continuously went wrong for her.  On Thursday morning a second-year tripped and fell against the _temporary_ headmistress, knocking off her earmuffs and causing her to be knocked unconscious by a young mandrake.  On Thursday afternoon a third-year accidently caused a cauldron to explode in Potions, right next to where Umbridge was sitting.

On Friday a sign appeared in the entry hall.  Hermione frowned and pushed her way through the crowd of students around the sign.  Most moved out of her way when they saw her.  Whether they believed or not that she had been given forbidden fruit, they knew Umbridge was bad news by now and that Hermione and her friends would stop at nothing to take her down.

Colin was the last one to move out of Hermione’s way, sliding to the side when she tapped him on the shoulder.  Then she looked up at the sign and narrowed her eyes at the contents.

**Educational Decree 23:**

 

**_This decree hereby creates the position of High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  The High Inquisitor holds power gifted by the Ministry to change school rules, fire or hire staff members, and set the school’s educational standards.  They, as appointed by the Ministry, are above the Board of Governors, as well as any Headmaster or Headmistress appointed by this group.  All to ensure the continued exemplary education of the students._ **

 

**_Current Appointee: Dolores Umbridge_ **

 

Her eyes narrowed as she read the words.

_What does it say?_

Draco was standing on the outside of the group, along with the other New Marauders.  They had thought it best not to all push up to the sign.

_Educational Decree 23.  Makes someone High Inquisitor - Umbridge I’m guessing - and allows them to bypass the Board of Governors.  She may not have access to the Headmistress’ Tower, but she’ll be able to do almost anything else.  The castle magic only works so far._

He cursed.  She didn’t blame him.  This was going to complicate matters - extremely.  She wasn’t quite sure what changes Umbridge would enact, but she would bet her entire inheritance on them being anything but good.

_Anything else?_

_No._

She turned to go, bumping Creevey, who winced and pulled his arm away from her.

She looked at him in concern, “Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah, just cut myself in potions.”

She frowned and looked down at his hand, a thin bandage wrapped around the palm.

“Did you see Madam Pomfrey?  She can heal anything.”

He grimaced and looked away, “Something was on the knife, has to heal naturally.”

That made her frown deepen.  She couldn’t think of anything in fifth year potions that would-

_Hermione, toad incoming.  Peeves is coming._

“Well, be careful then,” Hermione said absently to Creevy, hurrying out of the crowd.  It had taken some negotiation, but Peeves had agreed to give Umbridge an unforgettable first Friday at Hogwarts.

Well, not too much negotiation.  Peeves rather missed Dumbledore and his quiet understanding of pranks.  Also, he seemed to enjoy making Umbridge shriek in rage.  He’d discovered that joy after filling all of her shoes with owl droppings on Tuesday morning.

No one had told Umbridge she needed to ward her new quarters against the poltergeist.  Granted, Peeves had never dared to enter a staff member’s private quarters before either - warded or not.

Hermione reached the boys just as Umbridge stepped off the stairs.  

Before she could take another step a mad cackle of laughter issued from the rafters and then Peeves came shooting down.  He had a straw in his mouth and used it to shoot peas straight at Umbridge.  Then, as she covered her face against the missiles he pulled a dungbomb from his pocket and lobbed it right at her.  Everyone around jumped back several feet, attempting to avoid the stinking cloud the bomb had created.

Umbridge stood there, shaking in rage as Peeves zipped away chanting, “Dungmistress Umbridge!  High Stinker of Hogwarts!  Dungmistress Umbridge!  High Stinker of Hogwarts!”

Some students shrieked and ran from Peeves as he sped past them, lobbing additional dungbombs with each chant.

A few people tittered in laughter at Peeves’ words, but they quickly grew silent when Umbridge looked up.  Her lips were pursed in a thin line and her jaw was tight as she bit out, “Get. To. Breakfast.”  When no one moved towards the Great Hall she barked out, “NOW!  Or detention!!!”

The crowd moved quickly then, Hermione and the boys included.  So far they had avoided doing anything that she could give them detention for, and while they knew that couldn’t last, they didn’t want to hurry it either.  When someone jostled her she bumped into Draco, who instinctively put a hand on her back to stop her from falling.  That small contact instantly distracted Hermione from what to do about Umbridge.  

How could one hand cause so much heat through all these layers?

“Have a good day,” Draco murmured in her ear when they entered the Great Hall before slipping over to the Slytherin table and taking a seat beside Theo.

She wasn’t able to get her tongue working again until after she had taken a seat between Ginny and Ron at the Gryffindor table and taken a large mouthful of coffee, wrinkling her nose at the bitter taste.  She hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of drinking tea all week, but she still needed her caffeine.  Luna had somehow managed to talk the house elves into giving out coffee, Hermione wasn’t sure she wanted to know how.  Though she was extremely grateful, pumpkin juice was just not enough.

“I think I like Peeves’ new title for Umbridge,” Ron said, taking a bite of a piece of buttered toast.

Harry snorted, “Dungmistress is rather fitting.”

“What’s this?” Ginny asked.

“Peeves got Umbridge with a dungbomb; then dubbed her Dungmistress: High Stinker of Hogwarts.  It was glorious,” Ron said, a dreamy smile on his place as he stuffed the rest of the buttered toast in his mouth.

Harry nodded in agreement, his own mouth now full of sausage.

Hermione rolled her eyes at them and put her morning porridge together.  Today she used persimmon and golden honey, moaning in contentment as she took a bite.

It felt so good to eat one of her favorite foods as she pictured Umbridge’s reaction to her new title.  Perhaps she’d use it in her article.  She needed to get it finished and into the paper for Monday - if not Sunday.  

Because, surely-

_Grab a Daily Prophet, but eat before looking at it._

She frowned in confusion, looking around to see who had that rag of lies.

_Why?_

_What lies within is vomit inducing._

And, indeed, when she snagged Seamus’ copy after she finished her porridge she couldn’t help but gag.

“Madam Umbridge has been a smashing success?  Really turning the school around?? Fixing the errors of the previous Headmaster?!?”

Her hands were shaking in anger as she spoke, everyone else looking at her and listening in eager disbelief to her exclamations.

She needed to get her own article out TONIGHT.  It had to be in tomorrow’s papers.  The Daily Prophet would never publish it, but she knew quite a few people now read The Fae Chronicles.  She knew from Mr. Lovegood that their sales were higher than they had ever been before.

Mentally she began rescheduling her day as Ginny took the paper and read the entire thing out loud.  She could finish up the article before dinner if she worked on it during her empty afternoon slot rather than getting a head start on whatever assignments they received today.

_A pack of griffonshit, isn’t it?_

She turned and looked over at Draco, who was watching her intently.

_Yes, luckily my own response is almost finished.  I just needed something to center it, and now I have this lovely pack of lies._

_Need any help?_

_No, but thank you._

_You’re welcome._

She grabbed her bag and left the others to their breakfast.  She got to the Ancient Runes classroom early and read over what she already had written for the article.  By the time the other handful of NEWT-level Runes students arrived she had read the entire rough draft five times and scribbled all over it with her blue-inked quill.  

Daphne Greengrass took a seat next to Hermione, making her look over in surprise at the Slytherin prefect.  While they worked together in Potions, they rarely interacted outside of it, and they certainly never sat together in Ancient Runes.

The Slytherin girl never said a word as she pulled out her materials, lining up everything neatly on her desk before sitting as properly as if she was at a formal tea.

Blaise Zabini entered the room a moment later.  He looked at Greengrass, gave a small nod, then approached the table on the other side of Hermione.  As she watched in puzzlement he shoved the table over until it was flush against the one she shared with Greengrass.

He fell gracefully into the seat next to her and pulled out his things as Mandy Brocklehurst and Padma Patil entered.

The two Ravenclaw girls looked at Hermione and the two Slytherins flanking her for a moment.  Then they shrugged and sat together at the table directly behind Hermione and Greengrass.

They were now all sitting closer together than they ever had in Ancient Runes, causing Professor Babbling to raise an eyebrow at them curiously - giving Hermione a stab of envy.  She’d stopped trying to just raise one eyebrow, she just didn’t think her facial muscles worked that way.

“Well, isn’t this different.  Does this new tendency towards clustering mean anything?”

No one said a word and Babbling gave a rich, throaty chuckle, “Alright, keep your secrets.  Please open your textbook to page two-hundred and thirty-four.  Today we will continue working on ancient runes and their ties to our latin-based spells.”

Even while Hermione rapidly flipped to the correct page her mind was racing, trying to understand why they were all sitting around her.  Typically everyone sat spread out, or with their fellow housemate, always leaving her alone.

Were they trying to show support?  Padma’s twin was Hermione’s roommate and Zabini was good friends with Theo.  As for Greengrass, she was always friendly with Pansy.  They had been partners in Potions together until the Bug Incident and often sat together in the Great Hall.

Unsure of the reason, she pushed it aside for later.

Class proceeded as normal and at the end of it no one said a thing as they packed up and left.  In Charms she only had Gryffindors and they sat in their normal spots - her with Neville and Harry with Ron.

At lunchtime Umbridge was at the head table, writing things on a clipboard between taking bites of her shepherd’s pie.  Occasionally throwing a glare over at Hermione, but she ignored the woman, mentally running through her article.

After lunch she hurried up to the practically empty Gryffindor Tower and claimed a table by the fire, setting to work on the article.  She had just finished writing it in the journal for the twins when the portrait opened and Harry came in.

His hair was ruffled and he looked quite exhilarated.

“Great weather for a snowball fight, pity you didn’t join us.”

She glared at him, “I was busy.  Besides, shouldn’t you have been working on your essay for Charms?”

“It’s fine, I’m going to work on it now.  Ron is off to Care of Magical Creatures and Neville is in the library.  Just need to grab my books and I’ll join him.”

She huffed in disbelief and looked down at the journal. Fred was just stating that he would copy the article out and get it sent off immediately.  She scribbled a quick thanks and then closed the journal, stuffing it into her bag with the rest of her things.

“Alright, well, I got finished what I set out to do.  I’m going to Arithmancy, see you at dinner.”

As she walked past him he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into a fast hug.  She was stiff at first but then hugged him back, feeling tension leave her as she rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“Don’t forget to stop and relax sometimes, okay?  We all need to let off some steam if we’re going to survive with our sanity.”

She smiled and pulled back, looking up at him, “I’m not sure I believe that, but I’ll give it a go.  When did you get so wise?”

He shrugged and smiled back down at her, “I get it from my sister.”

She laughed and pushed away from him, blushing, “If you say so.  I’m off to class.  Get your work done.”

He threw her a sloppy salute and headed off to the Boys’ dorm as she hurried off.

In Arithmancy Draco sat beside her, as he had in the previous class that week.  But, unlike that class, everyone sat in a clump around the two of them, rather than spread out.  It started out as it had gone in Ancient Runes, with her being flanked by Slytherins - Draco and Greengrass.  Then the Patil twins had entered and sat behind her, quickly followed by a slightly confused looking Lisa Turpin and Justin Finch-Fletchley.  Zabini entered the room last, his lips turning up in a small smile as he sat on the other side of Greengrass.

She looked around in bafflement as Professor Vector appeared and began writing in the chalkboard, then she glanced over at Draco, finding him staring at her in a most curious manner.

_Why is everyone sitting together?_

He blinked in confusion and then looked around curiously, as if just noticing everyone else.

_Oh, that?  I think it’s because of Blaise._

_Zabini?_

_Yes.  Theo told him what happened to you.  And Blaise is well-liked.  Don’t know what he did, but I’m assuming it’s the same thing he did when some people tried to give Pansy a hard time for being with Neville._

_Wait, people tried to give Pansy a hard time?!?_

She gasped, drawing attention from the others, who looked at her curiously.

_Yes, but Daphne is Pansy’s friend.  She spoke to Tracey, who spoke to Blaise, who made a few pointed comments and then Pansy was fine.  It didn’t stop the older students, but not many are older than us anymore._

She sat back in her chair in wonderment.  

_I’m guessing part of it might have been Daphne’s idea.  She says partnering with you in Potions is the only reason she got an Outstanding on her OWLs.  I think she wants to repeat that for NEWTs. And that means keeping you alive, sane, and not expelled._

“Huh,” she said, making Professor Vector turn from the chalkboard and look down her long, pointy nose at Hermione.

“Miss Black, do you have a question?”

Hermione shook her head, “Um, no, sorry, Professor.  I just had a realization.”

Professor Vector looked at Hermione, then at the calculations on the board, and then back at Hermione.  “You had a realization?  About something I have yet to teach?  Are you a seer?”

Hermione blushed and looked down as a few people chuckled, “No, professor.  It was about last lesson.  On how quadrilateral numerals, when used within triagrothal equations can be used to warp sensory perception in spellcasting.”

Professor Vector gave a delicate sniff, “I see.  Well, if you could please focus your attention on this lesson, we will continue.”

Hermione nodded mutely before the professor turned back to the board and continued writing.

_Nice save._

She took a page out of Ginny’s book and jabbed a bony elbow in Draco’s ribs.  He grunted in pain, but luckily Professor Vector did not turn back around to investigate as Draco made a very childish face at her in retaliation.

She had to bite back a snicker and deliberately look away even as a warm, comfortable feeling fell over her.  She began copying down the Arithmancy notes, unable to stop her lips from curving into a small smile.

Perhaps Harry was right.  She’d currently done all she could about Umbridge, so why not relax for a few minutes?

She had a feeling she would need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Draco's had a realization. 
> 
> Also.
> 
> All hail Dungmistress Umbridge! High Stinker of Hogwarts!  
> *salute*


	48. Permission is Unnecessary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is on patrol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Lunar New Year! 
> 
> Huge thank you to trinkisme and julis for beta reading. Ya'll catch all my typos. :)
> 
> Also, I just want to say how much I appreciate all of my readers and reviewers. Especially what with all the drama going on in the dramione tumblr world at the moment. Ya'll are amazing.

“Do you think my mum has heard the rumors?  That the Order now knows what Umbridge did to you?”

Neville’s question made Hermione pause in the middle of the empty corridor.  They were on their Friday night rounds.  The school was quieter than normal and they’d yet to find anyone outside of bed.  An unheard of fact on Friday nights.

Hermione wondered if the dungmistress’ presence had anything to do with it.

“The twins didn’t mention it earlier today, when I shared my article with them.  Would your mum pay attention to the rumors?  Usually teachers don’t.”

Neville shrugged and opened a classroom door to poke his head inside.  “Mum listens to everything.  Besides, I still think we should have told someone about the vititus.  Even if there was no proof.  Your dad is going to be furious when he finds out.  Not to mention Mrs. Malfoy’s reaction.”

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, now long enough to fall just past her ears.  “What difference would it have made?  Fudge obviously supports Umbridge, he won’t do anything to investigate.  And I didn’t need Padfoot doing anything stupid.  Not while he’s still healing.  I mean, he’ll be angry when he reads the article, but he won’t know it was me that was drugged.”

“But remember the anger about what happened at the Triwizard Tournament celebration?  We could raise that anger against-”

She shook her head sharply, “No.  That was different.  It was teenage boys drugging teenage girls.  This is a Ministry official drugging a student who is of age.  Her authority carries too much weight, we need proof or we’re simply discrediting ourselves.  Besides, those boys were caught red-handed, in front of numerous witnesses.  It was just you and Draco that found me, and there were no witnesses.  It will be like Voldemort’s resurrection all over again.  By revealing it in my article we’ll be putting them on the defensive.  Especially as I give nothing concrete for them to argue against.  Besides, to cover my bases I sent a complaint by owl to the Ministry, but I’ll bet you all my pin money that it never made it.  Or if it did it was immediately ignored.”

“No bet.  I can see your point.  And to think, you used to lecture everyone on following the rules.  I didn’t know you well before Hogwarts, but I’ve heard the stories.”

She shrugged and opened a door, checking a broom cupboard.  “Rules only matter when they make sense.  Following rules blindly requires either trust or stupidity.  I am not stupid and I most certainly do not trust Umbridge or the Ministry.  Hence rule breaking here is justified.  Breaking Uncle Remus’ classroom rules was not justified.  At all.”

Neville snorted in laughter as they turned onto another corridor, one where Draco and Greengrass were already walking down.

The two sets of prefects were almost upon each other when they were stopped by Professor Longbottom emerging from a stairwell.

“Neville!  There you are!  We need to go,  Now.  Pansy woke up and she’s refusing to talk to anyone.  Just keeps asking for you.”

“She-she’s awake?” Neville gasped, his voice full of more emotion than it had held in weeks.

His mother nodded, “Yes.  And we need to go now.  Before-”

“Before what, Professor Longbottom?”

The sugary, little girl voice came from behind Hermione and she spun around to see the toad standing at the corner she and Neville had just come around.  Had Umbridge been following them?  If so, why?

Professor Longbottom straightened her spine and glared at her current - temporary - superior.  “Before it gets too late.  Neville needs his sleep.”

“Are you sure?  It’s not that you were suggesting a need to sneak out?  As I’m sure you are aware, a professor needs permission from the headmistress to remove a student from Hogwarts during term.”

Her sickeningly sweet smile made Hermione’s stomach roll as she remembered the taste of the drugged tea.

Professor Longbottom pursed her lips, “That is true.  If I was merely his professor I would need your permission, but as I am also his mother…”

She trailed off, quirking an elegant brow at Umbridge even as she gestured at Neville to go.  

The two of them were almost out of sight when the toad - her eyes narrowed in silent rage - turned around and stormed away.  Her steps echoing against the stones.

Hermione met Draco’s gaze, “I’m glad Pansy is awake.”

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a bit, “I hope it’s not a bad sign she’s only asking for Neville.”

“I don’t think it is,” Greengrass said simply.  

Draco and Hermione looked at her in curiosity.

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Just from what Pansy has told me, she’s never met anyone quite like Longbottom.  He’s a complete Gryffindor, gives without ever asking for anything.  Her parents love her, but that love is conditional.  Her mother wants her to be a perfect lady and marry an appropriate pureblood.  Her father wants her to uphold the family honor and support his brother, the patriarch.  There was even talk for awhile of betrothing her to her first cousin, who’s over a decade older, just to keep things perfect, though I believe her mother preferred to marry outside the family.  It makes sense that she wants him there.”

Draco nodded, “Yes, it does.  Did you know she was never interested in me?  We went to the Yule Ball together because her going with me stopped that plan.”

Hermione stared at them in shock, “You-you mean Pansy is with Neville only to escape an arranged marriage to her cousin?!?”

“No!”

“Definitely not!”

“Then, what-?”

Greengrass rushed to talk, “Pansy talked to me a lot during the winter and spring after Skeeter attacked her.  Her parents did not approve of her sudden interest in Longbottom.  He’s a pureblood, but his mother is considered to be a blood-traitor.  I know Draco’s mum talked to Pansy’s a lot, got her to see that the Longbottoms would not be a bad family to be allied to in the future.  How the world was changing.”

“That and Pansy is stubborn.  She won’t do a bloody thing she doesn’t want to,” Draco added.

“Point,” Hermione said automatically as her brain raced.  Narcissa had helped setup Pansy and Neville? Why?  Was this part of her scheme to get Hermione and Draco married?  Get Pansy out of the running?  “Are the two of them engaged? Or is it still informal?”

“I’ve heard of no engagement,” Draco answered.

Greengrass looked at him in surprise, “Really?  They’ve been engaged since her birthday back in November.  It won’t be in the papers until his birthday.”

Hermione was sure her expression perfectly matched the look of utter shock and disbelief on Draco’s.

“Wait-what-when?” She sputtered, at a loss.

Draco just blinked rapidly in disbelief.

“It was right after the Azkaban breakout.  Professor Longbottom approached the Parkinsons and they drew up a contract.  It can be broken by Pansy or Neville with no penalty in two years and becomes null if they are unmarried in seven years - or if the marriage is unconsummated.  But they’re engaged.  Pansy showed Millie, Tracey and me her ring.  She has it on a chain around her neck until the announcement.”

Instantly Hermione knew why the contract had been drawn up.  The world was entering a state of war, much as the Ministry wanted to deny it.  The contract offered protection - legal and magical - to Neville and Pansy.  And, it meant that Umbridge couldn’t keep Neville from visiting Pansy at St. Mungos - even if she changed the rules so that even a parent needed permission to check their student out of Hogwarts.  The laws protecting those that were engaged or married were old, extremely old.  Old enough to not just be mere words on a piece of parchment.  And while many of those laws were archaic, they could still be wielded in such a way as to protect the parties involved.

“Maybe they planned to share the news at Christmas,” Draco said quietly.

Hermione grimaced, that made a lot of sense.  And it also explained why Neville had been so grim, even knowing the Healers’ assurances.  What was supposed to be a wonderful, celebratory holiday had become a nightmare.

Her lips tightened in anger.

“Voldemort needs to be destroyed.  Before he does any more damage.”

Greengrass flinched at Hermione’s use of the dark lord’s name even as she nodded in agreement.

“Point, but we have more immediate concerns.  Patrols are almost over, so how about Daphne and I walk you up to Gryffindor Tower?  Don’t think it’s a good idea to have you out by yourself.”

“I’m not an infant.  I learn from my mistakes.  You don’t have to escort me,” she protested.

Draco crossed his arms and gave her a look that was pure Narcissa Malfoy, “Oh, really?  Wasn’t your mistake overestimating yourself and underestimating the toad?  Let’s not have that happen again.  Don’t go wandering alone.

Frustration and anger bubbled inside of Hermione, but her more rational side stomped it down.  He was right, damn him.  

“Fine.”

She turned and headed down the corridor quickly, forcing them to hurry to keep pace with her.  Even though she understood, she was still angry.

_Let me guess, Harry told you to watch over me?_

_No._

She glanced over her shoulder at him in surprise.

_Really?  Then why-_

He frowned at her and sped up until he was up beside her.

_Merlin’s balls, Hermione!  Can’t I just care what happens to you?_

She stopped suddenly, gapping at the look in his eyes.  Her hand moved of its own accord.  Resting on his arm, dragging him to a standstill, even as she stopped walking.

He looked down at her with an expression she’d only seen directed at her once before and never from Draco.  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she felt her breath catch.

“What-”

“Are you two alright?” Greengrass asked, reminding them of her presence as she glanced between them in confusion.

Hermione dropped Draco’s arm like it was a hot coal. “Oh, yes, sorry.  I just, well, thought of something, but nevermind.”  She knew she was speaking nonsense even as heat flushed her cheeks.  Unbidden, an image of Draco looking at her intently, out by the Shrieking Shack, filled her mind.  It wasn’t the same, but it was close enough...her cheeks became even more heated.  She looked away, biting her lip and letting her hair fall forwards so as to cover her face.

“If you’re fine, then let’s get you safely to your common room.  I want to get a head start on my homework tonight so I can relax some tomorrow.”

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded before continuing down the corridor.  She and Draco said no more - mentally or otherwise - the rest of the way up to Gryffindor Tower.  Hermione was lost in her own thoughts, doing her best to shove thoughts of Draco, butterflies, and memorable looks away.  It was difficult, but luckily Pansy waking up was enough of a monumental event so as to give her some mental ammunition against these new, strange feelings.

Pansy was awake.  

Pansy was awake and Hermione’s article would be out tomorrow morning.  

Umbridge was going to pay.

And then it was Voldemort’s and Bellatrix’s turn.

She had no time to focus on whatever had changed between her and Draco.  Not that anything had really changed.  No, it couldn’t have changed.  Not really.

Right?

XXX

Tension flowed through all of Neville’s muscles, making his hands tremble.  His mother apparated them around the corner from St. Mungo’s and they entered through the front door.

He took one look at the number of people waiting for the lifts and instantly decided to take the stairs.  His breathing was coming hard by the time he reached her floor, but it wasn’t from the physical exertion.  He’d known she had to awaken.  He’d trusted the healers, but he hadn’t truly believed it.

He blindly pushed past anyone stupid enough to get between him and her.

For the first time he ignored the small viewing room and went directly to her private room.  Ignoring a voice that shouted at him not to do it.

She was awake.

He wasn’t going to wait any longer.

He pushed open the door and rushed inside.  Dimly he was aware of other figures in the room, but he only had eyes for one person.

“Pansy…” he whispered as he froze, staring at her, drinking her in.

She turned in the bed, seeing him.  Her eyes widened, shining brightly in her pale, drawn face.  She weakly reached out one thin, trembling hand. “Neville.”

He was by her side so quickly he was half-sure he had apparated.  He wrapped his arms around her almost skeletal figure.  She stiffened for a single heartbeat and then relaxed, sinking into his warmth, gripping his robes tightly and breathing deeply.

He ran a hand over her back, “It will be alright.  I’ve got you.  Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”  He didn’t know if the words were true, but he needed to hear them.  He was sure she did, too.

She gave a shudder and he rubbed her back, feeling relief at being able to hold her again.  He didn’t know how long they sat there, but he knew when she fell asleep.  This time a normal one with no cursed nightmares trying to drive her insane.

He looked up then, finally focusing on the other figures.  There were Pansy’s parents, their faces conveying more emotion than Neville had ever thought they could give.  

Perhaps her parents loved her more than Pansy thought.

His mother was also there, along with Sirius Black, although Neville wasn’t quite sure why he was there.  He knew his mother was good friends with him, and had been for years.  Part of why they’d become business partners.  Maybe he was there as support?  In case Umbridge tried to pull something and get Neville dragged back to Hogwarts?

Yes, that made sense.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice wouldn’t work.  Still trembling, Neville took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “What-what did the healers say?”

It was Mr. Black who spoke, his voice rougher than it had been before being injured by Greyback.

“She’s going to be alright in time.  She’ll be given Dreamless Sleep to take as needed, but no more than three a week.  She should stay away from dark places and sleep with a light on for a few months.  While the magical nightmares are gone, they left scars.  She’ll likely be easy to scare and anger for awhile.  Most importantly, she needs to feel safe.”

Neville swallowed and cradled Pansy closer, “So, worse than last time.”

“Much worse,” his mum said softly.

“I called in a favor at the Ministry,” Mr. Parkinson said, drawing everyone’s eyes to him.  He pulled out a sheet of parchment and read from it, “To Whom it May Concern, I, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, hereby recognize Pansy Parkinson and her betrothed’s special rights at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.  No staff member may keep them from visiting each other at any hour.  No staff member may punish them for being together - alone or otherwise.  Any such person shall be tried in court for breaking ancient magical laws.”

Mr. Black gave a long, low whistle, “That must have been one hell of a favor.”

“Indeed, especially as Umbridge tried to stop me from bringing Neville here.”

Mrs. Parkinson’s eyes narrowed in a very familiar manner.  Neville knew he had seen Pansy with that same expression.  “Little Dolores tried to stop you?  I see I must send her a letter…” If he didn’t hate Umbridge so much for what she did to Hermione he might feel sorry for the toad.  

“Cornelius owes me a number of favors.  Narcissa also assisted Lucius before he died.  Lucius - may he rest in peace - must have let her know where some of the bodies were buried at some point.”

Neville didn’t say a thing, but he rather suspected they were discounting Mrs. Malfoy’s part in discovering those bodies.

Speaking of bodies…

Neville opened his mouth, and then froze, uncertain if he should speak.  Hermione hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about the vititus, but he was here, with her dad, and he could get the news out safely.  His mum would stop Mr. Black from doing something stupid.

And, most importantly, while he respected Hermione a lot, she wasn’t his boss.  Nor was Draco.  

He didn’t think anything could be done about Umbridge by the Order.  Part of him wondered if he should tell his mum privately, but Mr. Black was essentially Hermione’s father and Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson were his future in-law’s.  If he couldn’t tell all four of them, who could he tell?

“Is the room private?”

His question made the four adults frown, but it was Sirius who pulled out his wand a murmured a quick, “ _Muffliato.”_

Neville committed the word to memory, not recognizing that particular silencing spell.  Maybe he could offer it as a sort of apology for telling the Order.

“It is now,” his mum said.

Neville took a deep breath, “Umbridge drugged Hermione with vititus-laced tea on Tuesday.” Instantly the air changed, becoming charged with furious magical energy.  His mum put a hand on Mr. Black’s arm as Neville rushed onwards.  “Draco and I got her away and I found a potion in my tome to counteract the addiction, so she’s recovered, but we have no proof.  Hermione has an article set to be published tomorrow, and the information is there, but with no proof she was very vague.”

“That bitch is gonna _die_ ,” Mr. Black hissed, his face contorted in rage.

Neville found himself suddenly aware of just why Hermione hadn’t wanted to tell her father.  He wondered if he had just made a mistake, but there was no turning back now.

“Dolores always did consider herself above the law, even when she punishes others for breaking it,” Mrs. Parkinson said.

“Sirius, calm down, you can get her later.  That is, if Hermione doesn’t do it first.  I’ve been teaching her all week, she’s obviously not in the least bit hurt from the experience.  We can’t afford to do anything stupid right now.  I’ll let Pomora and Severus know they need to up the security on their supply cabinets.  We need to stop underestimating the lengths she’ll go to, as well as the Ministry, to keep up the facade.”

“Is Miss Black the only one?”  Mr. Parkinson asked.

Neville opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Mr. Black growling as his eyes flashed and his hands curled into claws.  “I won’t calm down!  My daughter was drugged!  My daughter!  Fuck getting the Umbitch later!  She’s gonna die right now!!!!”

He shook off his business partner’s arm and started storming towards the door, his hair practically standing on end like a wolf’s.  Neville’s breath caught and he held Pansy close, not sure what he could do, only certain that he had just made a terrible mistake.

But, before he or anyone else could do a thing Mr. Black walked straight into an invisible, solid wall.

Neville gasped as he watched a black-robed figure appeared from behind the door, holding a shimmery invisibility cloak in his hand.

“Alianore and Moody were right, you, Sirius, need a leash.  Hmm, or perhaps a muzzle,” Tachiki said, as he turned to face everyone, giving a small bow of greeting.  The tension in the entire room grew to an uncomfortable level.  The Parkinsons had their wands out and trained on the Japanese wizard, clearly not trusting his abrupt appearance.  His mum had her wand aimed at Mr. Black, her eyes narrowed in angry concentration.  And Neville, well, he cradled Pansy closely, trying to decided if he could pull out his own wand without disturbing her.

“Mamoru…” Mr. Black growled, “get this fucking wall down or you’re fired.”

Tachiki shook his head, “No deal.  If you remember correctly, I work for Alianore, not you.  And, I hate to say it, but she’s much more terrifying than you can be.”

Mr. Black raised the wand still clenched in his fist and cast a spell, but the wall didn’t move.

Tachiki made a tutting noise, “Really, Sirius?  You know I don’t use Latin-based spells.  And, even if I did, that simple spell wouldn’t take my wall down.  Now, take a deep breath and calm yourself.  You’re not leaving until I’m certain you won’t do anything stupid.  I’m under strict orders.”

“Remind me to raise Alianore’s pay, Mamoru,” Neville’s mum said, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Mr. Black spun around, his wand still up, “Alice!  What the fuck?!?  Tell him to move!!!!  Now, damnit!”

“No.”

The simple word enraged Mr. Black further, but he cast no spells, instead choosing to let out a quite remarkable set of curse words.  Including some combinations that Neville had never even considered before.  Each string of curses was punctuated by his fist slamming into the invisible wall.  After several minutes he stopped.  His chest was heaving and there was sweat coating his skin.

“Have control again?”

Mr. Black took a deep, shaky breath and looked up at Neville’s mum.  “Yes. I-I think I have a hold of it.  I’m still enraged, but, no, I won’t go storm Hogwarts and commit murder.”

“How in the world have you never committed murder before?” Mr. Parkinson asked in amazement.

Mr. Black snorted and collapsed into one of the small, uncomfortable chairs in the room.  “Anchors.  Multiple emotional anchors.  Also, most people aren’t stupid enough to hurt said anchors.  And, yes, Alice, I know Harry is also an anchor.  But he’s also at Hogwarts, in easy reach of an amoral bureaucrat that thought nothing of drugging my child with a highly controlled and illegal substance.  As long as they’re both in danger I’m not exactly thinking clearly.  Remember the Battle of Malfoy Manor?” He pointed to the scars on his face, most were fairly faded by now, but one long, nasty one went from his forehead, down his temple, and skated past his ear before ending somewhere under his collar.

“I remember.  Hence my recommendation to Alianore that someone keep an eye on you as long as Umbridge is in charge of Hogwarts.”

Neville looked over at Tachiki just in time to see him twirl his wand through his fingers and then slide it effortlessly up his sleeve, a smug expression on his face.  “Tonks and I have been trading off watching you when Alianore or Remus isn’t around.”

“Bloody hell, have I got no privacy?”  Sirius complained, putting his head in his hands.’

“Nope, none!” Neville’s mum said cheerfully.  “Now that you’re done with your temper tantrum we need to step up our efforts to figure out how to get Umbridge - legally - out of Hogwarts.  If we have no proof for the vititus we can’t do a thing about it right now.  Hermione was right about that.  I’ll alert the other teachers and we’ll do our best to ensure she gets no more chances with other students.  From what I’ve heard - and seen - the students are already revolting against her.  I’m certain that whatever she tries to do with her new status as High Inquisitor will only make things worse.  That woman has no concept of humanity and just what happens if you push people to their breaking point.”

“Point,” Neville said.

Everyone jumped and looked over at him, making Neville realize that they’d all forgotten his presence and - judging by the volume of their words - Pansy’s as well.  

It really had been apt of him to take the journal name of Grass.  

Everyone looked a little discomfited, as if they weren’t supposed to be speaking in front of him.  Or perhaps he wasn’t supposed to have witnessed Mr. Black losing control?

It wasn’t like he didn’t know about the negatives of Black Family magic.  He’d heard a lot of it from Hermione or Harry over the years.  And he couldn’t really say he’d felt exactly afraid of Mr. Black.  More afraid of any potential accidents.

He pulled Pansy farther onto his lap and she let out a little sleepy snort, cuddling closer to him and smiling a bit in her sleep.  His breath caught and he felt tears prick at his eyes.  He was just so happy she wasn’t cursed anymore.  Whatever the after effects would be he knew they could handle it.  He couldn’t quite explain how or why Pansy had come to mean so much to him, but she was his world and he was glad their families realized that.

“How about we return to our house?  The healers have agreed to release Pansy to us as long as she doesn’t return to school for at least a week, and even then she must get approval from a healer and then continue seeing Madam Pomfrey,” Mrs. Parkinson said after pointedly clearing her throat.  “Neville, dear, you are of course staying with Pansy.  Just keep the door open.  The rest of you can talk about the Ministry and calling in favors in the Green Sitting Room.  Cherry will make you tea.”

Her words seem to wake everyone up and there was a flurry of movement as healers were called, arrangements were made, and things were packed up.

Before Neville knew it he was at Innfields Park.  Safely ensconced in Pansy’s bedroom.  The lights lit, the door flung wide open, and Pansy cuddled in his arms.  She’d woken a bit when he pulled the blankets over her, but had quickly fallen back asleep once she was sure he was there.

The healers said that she would sleep a lot during this first week.  Her body may have been in a coma, but her mind had gone without sleep for nearly three weeks.  She was exhausted.

As he held her tightly in his arms, his cheek resting against her soft black hair he half-wondered if he should sneak down and hear what the adults were planning.  He knew that’s what his friends would want him to do - especially Hermione.  But, he really didn’t care.  He knew the Order had made some mistakes, but he ultimately trusted the people that made it up.  Combine that with the fact that Pansy needed him and it was really no decision at all.

Smiling as he breathed in the sweet scent of Pansy’s favorite shampoo he drifted off to the first real sleep he’d had in three weeks.  

Merlin, how he had missed Pansy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, many of you (if not most) expected this chapter to feature Hermione's article. But Pansy decided to wake up and delay things...I'm sure ya'll don't mind - right?
> 
> Enjoy!


	49. A Vile Stench

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets an idea and the article is published.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my awesome betas, trinkisme and juliS.

Hermione was just about to go to sleep when an idea had her wide awake again.  She slipped quietly back out of her bed and began rummaging through her trunk, her wand giving off just enough light.  She didn’t have many Weasley products as most of her space was taken up by books, but she did have a small device she had been working on.  

“Ah-ha!”

She immediately clapped her hand over her mouth, almost stabbing herself in the eye with her wand and glanced around.  Luckily no one stirred.  

She grinned and quickly tidied up.

She checked the time and then sent a quick image to Harry of the map and cloak.  A moment later he sent her an image of the common room.

Hurriedly, she slipped on her robe and slippers, making sure she had her wand and the device.

Harry was already waiting.  He was in his dressing gown and had his cloak thrown over one arm.

“What is it, ‘Mione?”

She held up the device, “I was working on something for the twins’ shop.  It’s giving me issues - too powerful for a simple prank - but is perfect for the toad.”

He frowned at it, “What does it do?”

She held up the device.  It did look rather odd, like a metal wand with a small, rounded ball at the tip.  She flipped it over so he could see the base and pushed a small lever, a little glass cartridge popped out, making him gasp.  She had to admit, the cartridge was rather gorgeous.  Like little lightning bolts trapped in a bottle.

“It’s meant to be refillable.  One cartridge good for a certain number of charges.  Then you can bring it back to the shop and have it refilled for a small fee.  Or just buy a few spares.”

“That’s a rather evil business plan.  But what does it do?”

She slid the cartridge back in and locked the base, “It’s proven impossible to give it an endless charge, this seems to be the best way.  And it transfers a bit of lightning to something - like a door handle - so that it will shock anyone that touches it.  The charge currently lasts for about ten to twelve hours.  Got the idea from a muggle toy Mr. Frank told me he used to use on Uncle Ted.  Took a lot of adaptation - Luna helped with bottling lightning - but it’s workable, even if I would never sell it to children as it is.”

“Brilliant, but when do you find time for everything?  I mean, I know you’ve always stayed busy, but this is getting a little insane, Hermione.”

She frowned at him, “What do you mean?”

He gestured weakly at the device, “That!  And the exploding liquid potion!  Figuring out I was a horcrux!  The journals!  The bags!  Your schoolwork!  The articles!  And now revenge on Umbridge!  Don’t you sleep?!?”

She blinked at him.  “I don’t play quidditch.”

He stared at her in disbelief.  “Neither do Luna or Neville.  They don’t do all this!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

She shook her head, “You’re wrong.  Luna writes for her father, constantly helps me, does her schoolwork, studies for her OWLs, snogs Ron, and still finds time to teach ‘lessons’ to those that annoy her.”

He gaped.

She shrugged, “Neville has been studying his family tome and writes detailed instructions for a gardener his mum hired to mind their greenhouses.  Not to mention schoolwork, Pansy, and visiting Professor Sprout on the weekends.”

He said nothing, merely continuing to stare at her in disbelief.  She had the sudden wish that it was Draco here, he would understand.  He didn’t sit around doing nothing for a few hours and think he was busy.  She loved her brother, but Harry could be rather lazy when there was no immediate danger.

She ran her hand through her short hair and sighed, “Can we please go use this?  We do need some sleep tonight.”

Harry sighed, “Alright.  Where to?”

She grinned, “Umbridge’s office.”

XXX

Harry watched as Hermione touched the round tip of the lightning stick to Umbridge’s door handle.  A deep, dark part of him cheered at the idea of Umbridge touching that knob.  Of her feeling pain.  But that was a part of himself he didn’t much care for.  He’d much prefer to humiliate her and evict her from Hogwarts.  Punishment should be used to teach a lesson, not just for your own satisfaction.  It was something he had never truly understood about Hermione and Padfoot.  Likely had to do with his lack of Black blood or magic.  

A small noise that could only be described as ZAP echoed through the corridor.  

She grinned, a much darker version of the smile she usually gave him before they dueled.  He sighed, he loved his sister, but sometimes she terrified him.

Hermione pulled out her wand and whispered a spell at the door.  "There, she won't be able to open it with magic now.  That will wear off in about a day.  Don't think's clever enough to get rid of it."

“Let’s go,” he hissed, looking at the Map.  Filch was coming at them from one direction and Professor Snape from the other.

She nodded and he threw the cloak over the two of them.  They hurried, but he had to pull Hermione behind a faded tapestry into a small alcove to avoid running into Filch.  The old caretaker was scowling and swinging a broom around with great vigor.  They stood there in the alcove, in almost complete darkness.  There was a small arrow slit, the weak light of the moon streaming through it, lighting up Hermione’s face under the cloak.  She was grinning and practically dancing in happiness, looking much happier than she had all week.

Despite his concerns about revenge, his frustration at her making such a big mistake, and his own worries about Voldemort he couldn’t help but grin back at her.  He loved their friends and adored Ginny, but he had missed doing something with just her.  When had it last been just them?

He couldn’t remember.  

And, the little bit of sadness that thought brought settled over him, weakening his smile, causing her own to dim a bit as well.

“Harry?  What is it?”

He sighed, “We never do things together anymore.  You know, just us.”

She nibbled on her lip, her smile disappearing.  “I know.  It started back after fourth year.  You know, after you and Ginny started dating.”

“Do you-”

“No!  I don’t- Well, it happens, right?  We grow up.  Things change.  We’re still there for each other.  We still love each other, we just love others, too.  I-I think that’s why my love for you wasn’t strong enough to anchor me.  Back in the battle. When I ran into-,” she stopped and swallowed, “-into Bellatrix.”

He nodded, feeling lead form in his stomach as he finally admitted things would never be the same - that they hadn’t been the same for years.  It’s not like he’d actively wanted things to change.  It had just happened.  It had made sense to kiss Ginny after the Yule Ball.  They’d gone as just friends, but...his thought trailed off, an image of Ginny in her dress robes, staring up at him expectantly.  Almost daring him to actually kiss her and change everything forever.

He didn’t regret it at all.

“You’re right.  And, well, I never thought I would ever say this, but I’m glad you have Draco.  I mean, I trust him now.  He-” Harry stopped, surprised by the look on Hermione’s face.  She looked equal parts stunned and disbelieving.  “Hermione?”

She gave her head a sharp shake, “What-what do you mean?  We’re just - He’s just my friend!  I mean, yes, there’s the Malfoy magic bond, but we’re only friends.  That’s all.  Friends.  And cousins.”

She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

He wanted to say something.  To ask about seeing them holding hands in her head.  About her throwing him out when she was talking to Draco.  But he didn’t.

“If you say so.”

“I do,” she said quite firmly.  “Now, let’s get back to the tower.  I want to be up early so I can see people’s reactions to the article.  See who orders the Fae Chronicles or Circadian Leaf.”

He nodded, not voicing his own thoughts on her relationship with Draco.

“Alright, let’s go.”

XXX

Luna gave her wand a twirl and stuck it behind her ear, she began filling her plate with food even as her eyes stayed focused on the windows high up in the Great Hall.

She knew she wasn’t the only one doing it.  The rest of her friends were doing the same.

But they didn’t know what Luna knew.  They didn’t know she’d talked her daddy into calling in a favor with Mr. Mclean - the owner of the Fae Chronicles.  Mr. Mclean was a nice man, he never laughed at Daddy.  He even asked to reprint some of the Quibblers articles.  Usually the ones about magical beasts, he said his grandson loved reading them.  Luna wasn’t surprised, Rolf Scamander was just as avid about magical beasts as his paternal grandfather.

She looked away from the windows for a moment and over at Ron.  He seemed to sense her gaze and turned to meet her eyes, a smile stretching his face.  She returned it, feeling a pleasant warmth in her chest.

She’d once thought Ron was infested with nargles.  It explained why he made her feel funny.  

Now she knew better.

Still, she wished sometimes that he was as interested - for himself - in the same things she was, rather than just supporting her.

She turned to look back up at the windows as the first owl fluttered through.

Then another owl.

And another.

She smiled.

A few of the owls flew directly to people, but many just dropped their newspaper in any empty hand they could find.  There weren’t enough papers for everyone to have their own, but that was all right, people could share.

She caught her own paper and unfolded it, her eyes twinkling at the glorious picture taking up half the front page.

She was so glad Professor Longbottom had managed to duplicate the photo and protect Mclaggen from being sent to Azkaban at the same time.  She wasn’t sure on the details - she never was as details were not important - but she knew who to thank for making sure Hermione had that picture.

The image of a dripping, enraged Umbridge reaching out desperately towards the camera.  If the _temporary_ headmistress didn’t learn her lesson from this photo - and the article underneath - Luna knew that she would have to step up and offer to help Hermione some more.

She’d already read the article in the journal, but she wanted to read it again.

It never hurt to refresh one’s memory.

 

**Vile Stench Invades Hogwarts**

**By Hermione Black**

 

**_A tragic event occurred a few weeks ago, as I wrote about previously.  One casualty of this event was the great wizard Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.  Headmaster Dumbledore was not the first person to pass away while holding such an illustrious post.  Back in 1543 Headmistress Selwyn passed away from Dragon Pox two months into the school year.  Her Deputy - Professor Greengrass - stepped up and kept the school running as normal until the Winter Holidays.  At this time the Board of Governors met and officially gave Professor Greengrass the post of Headmaster._ **

**_It would be assumed that this would give enough precedence for Headmaster Dumbledore's deputy - Professor Mcgonagall - to run Hogwarts until such time as the Board of Governors can appoint a replacement._ **

**_Am I not right?_ **

**_But, I fear, dear reader, that this precedent was ignored._ **

**_The Ministry - in their infinite wisdom - decided to step in and appoint a temporary Headmistress.  Understandable, I suppose, in this troubled time._ **

**_What, I fear, is not understandable is the person they selected for this posting._ **

**_Dolores Umbridge, current Undersecretary to the Minister, was given the post of temporary Headmistress.  Madam Umbridge’s only experience with education - outside her own years at Hogwarts - is when she attended the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL exams last year.  It was during this experience that she accused Harry Potter of cheating - despite the protest of every certified OWL examiner - and forced him to display twice as many spells as any of his classmates.  Many of them spells that are NEWT level.  If you think back on my article on Pedagogy (see page A3) you will remember that Harry Potter and I were raised by Sirius Black, one of the greatest aurors of the century.  We have both had additional lessons in Defense since we received our wands.  Not to mention the fact that the Potter family magic has always been known for excelling when it comes to Defense.  No one, knowing these facts, can fail to be surprised that he scored a near perfect O on his DaDA exam, with the practical side being exemplary._ **

**_Now, I am not saying that Madam Umbridge is incompetent.  After all, there must be a reason she is in such a high position in the Ministry of Magic.  But you must agree, dear reader, that she has practically no experience in education - except as a student.  (See page A3 for Madam Umbridge’s OWL and NEWT scores)._ **

 

Luna stopped reading for a moment and opened the paper to look at page A3 and looked at the scores.  It wasn’t exactly surprising.  Passing OWLs in Ancient Runes, History of Magic, Astronomy, and Divination.  All classes that had no practical requirement.  For NEWTs only History of Magic and Divination were passing level.  

A born bureaucrat as her daddy would say.  A knowledge of facts and the ability to discard them when lies were easier.

She flipped back to the front page and continued to read.

 

**_So, it is up to us, dear readers, to discover exactly why a woman such as Madam Umbridge has been placed in charge of a school?_ **

**_A woman so confident in her abilities that she ignores the warning of those that are more experienced.  Failing to read the notes that Deputy Headmistress Mcgonagall faithfully provided.  Notes that let Madam Umbridge know that it would be unwise to sleep in the Headmaster's’ Tower.  On how not even the Ministry can appoint a Headmistress without a vote by the Board of Governors.  A vote with a minimum of seven members._ **

**_Now, this failure resulted in Madam Umbridge being forcibly evicted by Hogwarts itself from the Headmistress’ Tower.  Evicted with none of her items.  Not even her wand._ **

**_She gained no sympathy from two of the professors here at Hogwarts.  In a rage she borrowed robes - and potentially something else - from Professor Sprout and headed into London.  There she obtained a new wand, new robes, and persuaded Minister Fudge to pass another educational decree._ **

**_A decree that creates a new position, one that ignores the ancient magic of the Hogwarts castle and gives the Ministry more control than it has ever had before.  Putting those with no educational experience in charge of those that have decades of experience._ **

**_Madam Umbridge was given the new title of High Inquisitor of Hogwarts yesterday morning.  A title giving her - legally not magically - absolute control over Hogwarts._ **

**_A woman who, if rumors are to be believed, drugged a student with vititus, threatened another one with Azkaban for refusing to hand a camera over, hands out detentions like a grandmother hands out biscuits, and stops students from sending and receiving mail.  After several letters and packages were intercepted I found myself employing magical means to smuggle this article out of Hogwarts.  Why?  Is it against the law for a student who has reached their majority to publish articles?  I think not.  I think that they are afraid of what I have to say.  Of what information I have to share with you.  Of what questions I bring to your attention._ **

**_Now - we must ask - why is the Ministry doing this?  Why are they employing this woman?  A woman who creates and enforces laws that she herself ignores?  Is it because they still refuse to believe what the rest of the world has accepted?  That Lord Voldemort has returned from death’s doorstep?_ **

**_Or is there a more nefarious reason?_ **

**_Either way, we, the students of Hogwarts, do not accept this woman.  We do not accept Headmistress Umbridge, High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.  No, we do not accept her and we will do everything in our power to throw out this woman who has invaded our sacred school.  We will throw her out and we will protect the traditions of this school; for a vile stench has invaded these halls and they must be cleansed._ **

**_We shall do our duty as Hogwarts students.  We will protect our school - by any means necessary._ **

 

Luna grinned wickedly, her eyes twinkling in delight as she read the last few lines.  Hermione had done it again.  It was a nice touch, referencing Peeves’ prank yesterday.  Only the students will get it, but that’s alright.  They’ll tell their parents, even Umbridge can’t stop all the letters.  It will spread, the story, and that will make the article read even more true.

Though, like she always knew, truth was subjective.

She folded up the paper and handed it idly to Mandy Brocklehurst - who had been trying to read it over Luna’s shoulder.

Her gaze moved around the Great Hall, lingering on the empty seat at the center of the teacher’s table.  She had a feeling Hermione was behind Umbridge being late.  It was just as well, it gave the article more time.  Let the students soak it in and read the words before Umbridge did the only thing she could do: ban the Fae Chronicles.

The thought made Luna giggle, causing a few of her housemates to look at her oddly.  Banning the Fae Chronicles or other papers would only fan the flames, giving fuel to Hermione’s words.  The rest of the Hall buzzed with conversation as students read and reread the new article - as well as the older, reprinted ones - but Luna merely turned her attention to her breakfast, humming happily as she licked a bit of strawberry jam off her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever badly shocked yourself? I have. It HURTS. Figured Umbridge would enjoy having it done to her. And, yes, I know, no dramione at all here. But so it goes when lots of things must occur. Also, Luna is such fun to write :)
> 
> Now, next up is Umbridge's reaction! Mwhahaha!


	50. Pansy Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dungmistress responds to Hermione's article and Pansy returns to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge shoutout to Julis and trinkisme! Thank you for betaing everything :)

Ron stumbled into the Great Hall rather late on Saturday morning.  He’d never understood why anyone would willingly wake up before ten on the weekend if quidditch wasn’t involved.

This weekend the Ravenclaws had the pitch in the morning, leaving Gryffindor to practice right after lunch - giving him plenty of time to sleep in, eat a late breakfast, work on quidditch tactics, eat a small lunch, and then go to practice.

He hadn’t planned on having this schedule interrupted.  Though, when thinking back, he really should have.  He’d known Hermione was printing an article.  Known that she was assuming the voice of the entire school.  Luna had even told him about her father calling in a favor with the owner of the Fae Chronicles.  It was no coincidence that the paper had decided to hold one of their rare promotions when Hermione’s article was published.

Here it was, eleven in the morning, and the Great Hall was still full of students and not a single professor.

There were students rereading a paper most of them had likely never heard of before this year.

Students drinking pumpkin juice and loudly discussing the contents of said article.

Students glancing semi-nervously at the doors every time a figure appeared, wondering where Umbridge was.

They didn’t have to wait too much longer.

Ron had just finished eating a large pile of eggs and sausages when a figure - dressed in bright pink, but otherwise looking quite unlike herself - appeared in the doorway.

Umbridge’s right hand was bandaged and curled protectively against her chest.  Her toad-like features were set off even more by skin tinged a dark purple from anger.  But, the truly spectacular part was her hair.  

Normally her hair held rather flat curls tied back in girlish bows.

Not today.

Today her hair stood on end, bristly and sparking.  He could see little sparks of lightning moving from strand to strand as she stormed across the Hall with every eye trained on her.

One little first-year Ravenclaw girl was gaping so hard at the sight that the newspaper she’d been reading was still held up, the image on the cover in plain sight of Umbridge’s beady eyes.

“WHAT. IS. THAT?!?” Umbridge screeched, snatching the paper from the little girl’s hands, making her scrunch up her face in pain.  Ron could see from here the girl look down at her hands in disbelief and then drop a small tear as Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw quidditch captain, leaned over and healed the girl’s wealth of papercuts.

Umbridge was shaking in rage as she scanned the paper.

When she finished she drew her wand and the paper went up in flames.  The Hall was so quiet that Ron could hear her from his seat as she hissed, “Detention, young lady.  My office, one o’clock.”

She began to turn to look at the Gryffindor table and Ron realized he was the only New Marauder in sight.  He wasn’t cowardly, but he really did not need a stupid detention ruining his Saturday.

His wand slipped out of his sleeve and he whispered, “ _Corusco Somnium_.”

Umbridge's eyes scanned the Gryffindor table, unable to see anything but a blur of faces.  None of them recognizable.

“Hereby, only the Daily Prophet is allowed in Hogwarts.  Any foreign newspapers found in your possession will result in immediate detention.”  Umbridge waved her wand and a wash of flames swept through the room as every copy of the Fae Chronicles burned.  Many students shrieked and screamed as flames licked their palms.

Umbridge smiled sweetly at them all, “Have a pleasant Saturday.  Be good little boys and girls and go study.”

She stormed back out of the room, sparks jumping through her hair with every step.

As soon as she was gone Ron removed his spell and looked around.

Not a bloody prefect in sight.  

He groaned and looked at Cho Chang, who was still holding the hands of the little first-year girl.

Well, with no prefects or professors in sight he supposed it was his duty as a quidditch captain to take charge with Chang.

He took a deep breath and - channeling Percy - began working with Chang on taking control of the angry, frightened students.

XXX

When Hermione heard about the incident in the Great Hall her hatred of Umbridge only increased.

Burning student's hands!  Hurting people for no reason!  Hurting CHILDREN!!!

Harry and Ginny had had to practically hold her down before Draco talked some sense into her.  She couldn’t just go and confront Umbridge yet.  She had to do this legally while the Ministry was still against her.  She couldn’t bend the law.  

Especially as she was now of age.

But she got Umbridge back.

On Sunday morning she got Ginny to steal Harry’s cloak and map.  Then the two of them broke into Umbridge’s office and electrified every piece of metal there was.

Sadly she’d been unable to get the castle to let them into Umbridge's private quarters.

Her article - and all foreign newspapers - were banned from Hogwarts, but copies were still circulating.  

On Monday morning it was found that someone had charmed all of the chalk to zip through the school, writing various quotes on any available surface.

Filch had never before looked so enraged.

On Tuesday new rules went up in the Entrance Hall.  

-No personal house elves allowed at Hogwarts without the High Inquisitor’s approval.  

-No student allowed to publish without the school’s permission.

-No student could leave Hogwarts in the company of their parents without the High Inquisitor's permission.

This last one was, of course, to ensure no one used polyjuice or another magical method to kidnap a child.  Or so Umbridge claimed in a conversation Hermione overheard between her and an indignant Professor Longbottom.

This raised a lot of angry talk and a flurry of letters were sent off to parents.  Hermione was fairly sure none of them made it to their designated recipients.

Tuesday night someone used magic to change the signs in the Entrance Hall to permanently read Dungmistress Umbridge, High Stinker of Hogwarts.

Umbridge was screaming about it for hours, demanding the other professors help her fix it.  They simply looked at her with false helpless expressions and claimed to not know how.  Hermione could just about kiss whomever had done it.  Apparently attacking Umbridge’s image, and the image of her precious Ministry was the best method.

On Wednesday someone did what Hermione hadn’t thought of.  They found the window to Umbridge’s private quarters and levitated one of Hagrid’s experimental blast-ended skrewts through it.  

The damage was bad enough to keep the dungmistress occupied for a good twenty-four hours; leaving Hermione and Luna with enough time to find a way to charm the headmaster’s chair in the Great Hall to let out loud and rather revolting squelching noises whenever it was sat on.

The laughter caused by Umbridge when she sat down for dinner on Thursday evening soothed Hermione’s itch for revenge just a bit.

But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.  She was going to destroy this nasty excuse for a woman if it was the last thing she did.

And she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

On Friday a new rule was posted, one that Hermione knew would get her in trouble, at least in the short-term.  But, unlike the other rules, this one was patently ridiculous as accidents were as common at magical schools as gum chewing was in a muggle school.

-No student is allowed to cause physical, mental, or emotional damage to a professor, whether it be accidental or deliberate is not to be considered when issuing repercussions.

This new rule didn’t stop a dozen students from getting detentions on Friday for ‘accidentally’ causing Umbridge some form of injury when she was observing classes.

None of the New Marauders had gotten a detention, but not for lack of effort, Umbridge just hadn’t managed to catch them yet.

On Saturday Professor Longbottom found Hermione studying in the library with Draco, Luna, Theo, Davis, and Zabini.  Hermione couldn’t help but smile when Professor Longbottom blinked in surprise to see Luna and Hermione sitting with four Slytherins.

“Miss Black, would you mind taking a walk with me?”

Hermione set her quill down and closed her book.  “Of course, let me clean up my bags.”

“Professor Longbottom?”

Neville’s mum looked at Draco, “Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Is it alright if I come with you?”

Professor Longbottom gave him a look that seemed to understand more than Hermione could ever know.  She hadn’t exactly been avoiding Draco all week - it’s not like she could avoid someone that could just talk mind to mind with her - but she had felt decidedly uncomfortable. Something seemed to be wriggling around in her stomach every time their hands brushed against each other.  

Most of her vititus dreams had faded, losing their power and the emotions attached to them.  She still felt sadness when thinking of a world where her parents had lived, but it was almost at the same level as any other thoughts of her parents.  There was nothing she could do about it, so why dwell on dreams that could never be?

But Draco was different.

She could almost see them now, as the world was, going on a date to Hogsmeade - holding hands, watching Theo argue with a shopkeeper, stumbling on Harry and Ginny snogging - it was all too real.

As was the look on Draco’s face when he swore to never attack her as long as she never supported his mother’s wish to wed them.  And, while she knew he wouldn’t attack her if her mind somehow changed and he felt her side of the vow break, she also knew that it would change their relationship forever.  Their relationship had already gone through so many changes, she wasn’t sure if it could take any more of them.  Not right now.

Going on a date to Hogsmeade did not equal marriage - she knew that - but it was also not inconsequential.  Especially when their lives were already so tied together.

She stuffed the last of her books in her bag and then tugged her sleeves down, hiding the tail end of a letter that had been poking out.

Why was she even thinking of this?  It’s not like he would want her.  Not that way.  Only Viktor had shown interest in her - and he had never known about the scars.  

Draco did.

Even if she wanted to pursue the feelings her vititus dreams made her see, she didn’t think she could.  She couldn’t use the cream every day, it would stop working after a while.  

And then where would she be?  The thought of anyone, let alone someone she had feelings for, see her scars, touching them, made her feel sick inside.

She jumped as Draco laid a hand on her arm.  She stared for a moment at his pale hand against her dark robes.  His nails were once again perfectly manicured, though his hair was still long.  She rather thought he had decided to never cut it again, and she couldn’t blame him.  His father’s long silver hair had been such an important part of the Malfoy image.  An important part that was not steeped in darkness or death.  It was a part Draco could latch onto, a part he could emulate without destroying himself.

She must not have heard Professor Longbottom give permission for Draco to come, because he followed the two of them out of the library.  Professor Longbottom chatted idly with them about the upcoming Ravenclaw-Gryffindor match.

They encountered a few students on the walk out of the castle, but no one said anything to them.  Conversation halted entirely when they left the castle.  Outside the sky was steely gray and the wind was sharp.  It stabbed at Hermione’s face, piercing the warming charm she cast on herself.  She instantly thought of her warm winter gear up in Gryffindor Tower.

Perhaps she should just start storing her entire wardrobe in her little drawstring bag.  Then she would always be prepared.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have the space.

Professor Longbottom led them across the grounds to the front gate.  As they approached Hermione could see several figures on the other side of the gates.  When she realized that one of them was Pansy she took off running.

She didn’t even think about it, but she knew Draco was right on her heels.

“Pansy!  You’re awake!  How do you feel?  Are you coming back to Hogwarts?”

These questions spewed from Hermione’s mouth as she skidded to a stop on the other side of the iron gate.  It was only as her eyes focused that she realized that Pansy’s face was still pale and drawn, her eyes too big for her skull and her hair hanging limply.  

Neville had a protective arm around her shoulders and she seemed to be using him to hold herself upright.

“Pansy?” Draco whispered behind her.

That drew a small smile to Pansy’s face.  “Ah, Draco, I see you’ve turned into a shadow.”

Hermione frowned and turned to realize that Draco had stopped a step behind her, guarding her back, letting her take the front.

She didn’t see it, but she almost felt that mental chain connecting them shiver in acknowledgement.

His magic wanted them to work this way.  It wanted her to take charge, pull him along, and let him protect her.  Guard her.  Keep their back safe, even as she kept their enemies from reaching their front.

This realization comforted her as much as it unsettled her.

“Hermione casts a rather large shadow.  I daresay the entire school is falling under it,” Draco said back.

Pansy chuckled weakly.

“No hello for me?”

Hermione’s eyes jerked away from Pansy and looked at the two that had accompanied Neville and Pansy.  She blushed in shame as she saw the hurt look on Padfoot’s face.

“Oh, hush, you!” Alianore said, hitting Padfoot on the arm and making him wince.  “You were quite on the mend the last time she saw you.  Pansy was not.  You know, you don’t always have to be the center of attention.”

Padfoot gave Alianore his most pitiful, puppy-like expression, though it was rather ruined by the scars on his face.  Especially the long one that went across his forehead, down his temple, and disappeared under his collar.

Hermione winced, even though it now looked much better than it had when she last saw him.

“Hello, Padfoot.  Are you seeing Mr. Frank like you promised?”

Padfoot snorted, “Four times a week.  Now,” he fixed her with his piercing auror stare, “want to tell me what exactly occurred in Umbridge’s office?”

Hermione gaped at him for a moment before her gaze slid over to Neville, who was rather carefully not looking at her.

Anger flooded through her.  She’d TOLD him that telling Padfoot was a bad idea!  Wasn’t he her friend?  Why had he-

_Put a sock in it, Hermione._

She whirled around and glared at Draco.

_I told him we shouldn’t tell any of the adults!_

_Yes, you did.  But you’re not in charge of Neville.  He has choices, he has free will.  He never promised not to tell his mother or your father.  You can’t be angry at him for doing what he thinks is right._

_But-_

_Do you WANT to be a Dark Lady?  Replace Voldemort as a Dark Lord?_

That thought drew her up short.

The words on her limbs burned, tumbling through her mind in a giant whirlwind even as she tried to come to grips with what Draco was implying.

A Dark Lady...able to take control...punish those that disobeyed her…freely torture and slay Umbridge for daring to attack her...

The idea thrilled her, made her blood sing, made her want to smile in triumph.

And that terrified her.  It terrified her more than any nightmare ever had.  To become like Voldemort.  To cause the suffering he and his followers had caused.  To become a more powerful version of Bellatrix.

Her stomach heaved and she felt sick.  

She wanted to vomit.

She couldn’t breath.

She was disgusting.

She was terrible.

How could she think such a thing?

A hand took hers and a strong arm wrapped itself around her shoulders.  She shivered and then sunk into the embrace, heedless of anything but the strong form holding her steady.

Draco.

Her anchor.

Her…something.

_Shh, it’s alright.  You’re not like him.  You’re not like ANY of them.  Understand?  You don’t hurt for pleasure._

_But-_

_Don’t.  Don’t doubt yourself here._

_But-_

_Hermione…_

She stopped and took a deep breath, soaking in his strength.  The thoughts once again locked up safely she stood up straight and he dropped his arm, but refused to let go of her hand.  She looked up, the gate and the road to Hogsmeade wavered before her eyes.  For a moment the cloud covered sky changed to a bright, brilliant blue.  The soft whispers of Professor Longbottom speaking with Alianore and Padfoot became more cheerful, younger, morphing into the voices of Hogwarts students.

She felt lost, unsure of where she was until the gate screeched open and her eyes found Pansy’s.

Everything lurched and then settled back into where it should be.  The Pansy of her vititus dreams had never looked so hurt and lost.  That Pansy had never been obliviated, had never been tortured for weeks by living nightmares.  That Pansy was cheerful and snarky, obsessed with fashion and humorously tearing down anyone that dared to look at her wrong.  This Pansy was scarred, damaged, afraid of shadows, and yet determined to fight and claw her way back to normal.

Hermione knew all of this, and Pansy had barely spoken a word.  It was all there on her face.

Knowing this, Hermione stepped forwards, holding tightly onto Draco’s hand.  

“Welcome back, Pansy.  Feel up to helping me rid Hogwarts of a particularly nasty stench?  I fear it’s invaded everywhere.  We have to be rather thorough in our efforts to evict it.”

“What about the others?  The bringers of death?  The givers of nightmares?  The destroyers of all that is good?”

Hermione smiled, her eyes glittering with malice, even as Draco’s hand kept her fully rooted on the side of good.

“They’re next.”

Pansy gave a true smile, banishing - if temporarily - the darkness from her eyes.  “Good.”

XXX

Draco felt as if he was floating through the air - more free than any broom had ever made him feel.

And all because Hermione was holding his hand.

No.  Not just holding his hand.  She was listening to him, using him as an anchor.  

He could feel eyes on him and he looked up to see that Padfoot had stopped speaking with Alianore and Professor Longbottom.  The older man’s shining grey eyes were focused on Draco’s hand.  Staring at how Hermione’s fingers interlaced his.  The former auror’s gaze moved up Draco’s arm until their eyes locked.  Draco could see a question in those dark eyes.  

There were no words, but he knew the question.

Both of them were aware of what his mum had proposed years ago.  They were aware that Narcissa Malfoy née Black always got her way.  No matter how long it took.  No matter what she had to do to achieve it.

Not that Draco was ready or anything to say that he thought his mother’s plan to marry him off to Hermione was a good thing.  He had simply realized that she was female, and a rather attractive female at that. An attractive female who he had strong feelings for - and not simply of the familial sort.

Far from it, if he was to be honest with himself.

But that was all.  It wasn’t like he wanted to do anything about it, right?

He pushed a stolen image of himself holding Hermione’s hand as his eyes skittered away from the question on Sirius’ face.  His gaze caught on a tendril of hair that had fallen across Hermione’s face as she spoke to Pansy and Neville, telling them of what had occurred in the last week at Hogwarts.

It was only when his fingers connected with the soft hair did he realize what he was doing.  Instantly he could feel six pairs of eyes on him.  Swallowing, he didn’t stop, simply tucking the hair behind her ear and giving her a tight smile before looking up at the treetops until conversation started up again.

They parted ways a few minutes later, Neville and Pansy accompanying them back up to the castle after Sirius and Hermione had a rather short and heated conversation.  A conversation full of strong whispers, angry glares, and stubborn looks.  But one that also ended in heartfelt sighs and a hug that made him miss his father more than he had in the past few weeks.

Draco didn’t hear much, but he did know Sirius extracted a promise from Hermione to never again try to hide something so important as being drugged again.

Snow had begun to fall by the time they reached the castle.  Small, dry little bits of ice that practically burned when they hit.  

He felt off and unsettled as they walked down to the dungeons.  Right outside the Slytherin common room Neville and Hermione left them, promising to meet up in the library in about thirty minutes.

Draco took over levitating Pansy’s trunk and escorted her inside.  Most of the room was empty, just a handful of younger years playing a game of gobstones before the fire.  They barely spared a glance at Draco and Pansy.

“I’ll be in your room in a moment,” Pansy said as she took her trunk and disappeared down the girls’ hallway.

Draco knew better than to try walking down it, he didn’t particularly care to find his feet pasted to the floor until Professor Snape deigned to release him.

Instead he walked back to the room he shared with Blaise and Theo.  It was empty as the two boys were still up in the library.  He took a seat on his bed and quite deliberately did not look at Greg and Vince’s neglected beds.

Pansy came in a moment later, an enigmatic look on her pale face and her school bag slung over her shoulder.  She sat on the bed next to him and took a deep breath.

“We have a lot to discuss I’m guessing.”

“We do?” he asked, choosing to play stupid.  It wasn’t very nice of him, especially as Pansy had been put in a nightmare filled coma because she had helped rescue his mother, but he found himself unable to confront this head on.  He’d already worked through a lot of his guilt.  He hadn’t talked about it with Theo, why should he do otherwise with Pansy?

“Don’t play stupid, Draco.  I know you feel guilty about me being hurt, but I want you to stop.”

He didn’t bother to deny it.  “That’s easier said than done.”

“So is defying the dark lord, and you did that just fine.”

He flushed and looked away, “That was a single moment.  It’s easy to be strong for a second.”

“Draco…”

“Pansy, seriously, I’ve had several weeks to deal with this.  I’ve already talked with Harry and Hermione about it.  Yes, I feel guilty, but I’m not letting it overly affect me.  I’m more worried about you and how you’re doing.  In fact…” His eyes narrowed and he looked her over, “I think you’re trying to distract me.  Trying to stop me from learning what scars the curse left on you.”  She turned pink and looked away, causing him to huff in disbelief.  “Really, Pans?  You do know Hermione is likely quizzing Neville right now.  Now, I can ask Hermione to tell me what she learned from Neville, or you can just tell me yourself.”

Pansy sighed and ran a well-manicured hand through her short locks.  “Just when did you get so clever and observant?”

He thought back on the past month.  On his father’s confessions.  On Lockhart’s tips on manipulating people.  On his odd position as a former outsider suddenly in the thick of things.  On the bits and pieces he had seen of Hermione’s vititus dreams.  On his own realization that she was more than just his cousin.  His lips twisted into a self-depreciating smile as he said, “Rather recently actually.”

She studied him for a moment before standing up and smoothing down her robes.  “I can’t sleep in the dark, I have nightmares if someone I know isn’t physically touching me as I sleep, sudden movements make me jump, I easily forget what I’m doing, and I keep fighting this desperate belief that nothing is worthwhile.”

He stared at her, stunned, unable to think of the proper words to use.  Then he saw her fingers twitch as she tried to subtly rub sweaty palms on her robes.

Maybe words weren’t necessary.

He enveloped her in a hug.  She stood stiff for a moment before giving a shudder and relaxing, her hands clenching and wrinkling his robes.

He rubbed his hand a bit awkwardly across her back.  “Remember when we were seven and I found you crying?”

“Barrow called me a pasty pug.”

“Yes.  Do you remember what happened afterwards?”

She sniffed, “We stole my mother’s wand.”

“And?” He prompted.

She let out a half giggle. “We gave him pig ears and turned his robes pink. We said it suited his nose.”

“That made you feel better, right?”

She nodded.

“Do you think it will make you feel better, if after we take down Umbridge and finish this school year we find the Death Eater that cursed you and give it back to them ten-fold?”

“I know who did it.”

“Who?”

“It was Alecto Carrow, when I was fighting her brother.”

Anger rose up, not as much as he had felt over Umbridge, but enough to make him see red.  

Alecto Carrow.

He hadn’t really been making a list of Death Eaters he had a personal vendetta with, but he supposed he had enough names now he needed to.  

It would make it so satisfying to check them off.

_Alecto Carrow is the one that cursed Pansy._

_I know.  Neville told me as part of an apology for telling Padfoot about the vititus.  He also told me about their engagement._

_Pansy  hasn’t shared that information yet.  And I’m not going to push her for it._

_I should hope not!_

Their mental voices didn’t convey much emotion, but her tone was clear.  He gave Pansy’s back one last, awkward pat and then pulled back.

“All settled?”

She nodded.

“Alright then.”  He stepped back and grabbed his bag, “Feel up to going to study for a bit?  When Ron, Ginger and Harry finish with the quidditch practice we’ll meet them in the Shifting Room.  Luna found a good charm to use on the suits of armor.  We’re going to practice it this afternoon.”

Pansy slung her own bag over her shoulder, “I can do that.” She looked at him rather mischievously.  “I also have some good news.”

“Oh?”

She opened her bag and pulled out the drawstring pouch Hermione had given them all.  

A moment later he couldn’t help but grin at her as she held up a box bearing the rather distinct Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes logo.

Umbridge wasn’t going to know what hit her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, did you enjoy seeing Umbridge's reaction? And Pansy smuggled in supplies...
> 
> Hope ya'll have a lovely week and thank you so much for all of the kind reviews! I appreciate every one!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> I give out cookies to reviewers on FFN as I can reply privately. But here's a mini cookie for all the wonderful people here on Ao3:
> 
> Draco felt like he needed a long, hot shower and a good think about exactly what was going on with his feelings towards Hermione.  
> Before he did something stupid.


	51. Striking Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Umbridge bites off more than she can chew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> Thanks, as always to my amazing betas! :)

That evening not a single Slytherin raised an eyebrow when Neville walked into the Slytherin common room with Pansy, Tracey, Blaise, Theo, and Draco.  Not with the elegant diamond ring resting on Pansy’s finger.

Most Slytherins knew of the ancient laws protecting engaged couples, and the ones that didn’t were smart enough to not show their ignorance publically.

Still, Draco was fairly certain that one of them would be skittering off to Umbridge to tell her about this soon enough.  He knew better than to trust all of his housemates.  

And, sure enough, within the hour the pink toad was storming into the common room, Professor Snape right behind her.  The Head of Slytherin House had an unreadable expression on his face, but Draco was willing to bet his best potion knives on Snape supporting Neville and Pansy.

It took all of Draco’s willpower not to laugh when Umbridge stormed down the hall to the girls’ dormitory.  Really, did she think anyone could overpower the protections against males on that hallway?  It wasn’t as if the room he shared with Theo and Blaise didn’t have extra beds at the moment.

He slid out of his chair and headed to his own room, Tracey followed him, as did Daphne.

Draco pushed open the door to the room he shared with the other boys.

“Umbridge is here, she went to Pansy’s original room first though.”

Theo grunted and put his book down as Blaise unwrapped his arm from around Theo’s shoulders and slid over to his own bed; grabbing a random book to throw open.

A curtain slid back, revealing Neville holding a sleeping Pansy on the bed that had always been Greg’s.

A ball of light hovered over them, making the inside of the bed brighter than the rest of the room.

“Of course she is.  Bloody menace.  Well, guess I’ll use Luna’s idea,” Neville said as he drew his wand and gave it a wave.  A piece of parchment stuck itself to the outside of the curtain before the thing snapped shut.  A moment later a shimmery wall appeared around the entire bed.  It shimmered strongest at the corners, where, lying on the ground inside a simple rune for strength lay several shriveled and dried flakes sprinkled with what looked to be salt.

“Interesting use of salted _Allium Sativum_ Root.”

Draco jumped and spun around, his wand appearing in his hands without thought, causing Professor Snape to arch one eyebrow coolly at Draco. “Do you plan on attacking a professor Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco shook his head and put his wand away, “No, not at the moment, sir.”

“Good, now let’s just see what Mr. Longbottom put up.”  Tracey and Daphne slipped into the room behind Snape and closed the door before sitting on Vince’s empty bed as Snape read the parchment, being careful not to touch the shimmering wall.

The professor’s face was largely unreadable, though Draco was fairly sure the edges of his mouth tipped up in a miniscule smile after finishing reading.

He’d already seen the Minister’s note in the Shifting Room earlier, when Pansy and Neville had told everyone they were engaged.  Hermione had laughed herself silly after reading it.

In fact...He took a seat on his own bed and sent Hermione a thought.

_She’s about to storm in here and see the note._

_Okay, I’m coming over._

A moment later Draco felt Hermione’s presence in his head, there was some minor pressure and then it relaxed.

_I see Snape is there already._

_He followed Umbridge into the House.  He knew better than to think Neville was in the girls’ dormitory._

_Of course.  What does yours do?  Ours turns the stairs into a slide and then greases the banister.  If that doesn’t work the slide greases as well._

_Ours freezes you in place.  Haven’t ever seen it happen, though it’s rumored some girl in the past half century changed it so it also makes your clothes disappear and plays words in your ears.  Constantly repeating until rescued, ‘You are a gentlemen, you do not invade a girl’s privacy.”_

She snickered, the sound echoing through his mind.  He had the sudden urge to close his eyes and actually see Hermione, but that would defeat the purpose of her looking out of his eyes.

_Frankly, with what I learned at Christmas, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was my mother that changed it._

_Neither wou-_

Her thought was cut off as the door slammed open, banging against the stone wall and making everyone look up at the enraged woman in the doorway.

She opened her mouth to shout, but Draco’s words cut her off.

“May we help you Madam Umbridge?” he asked pleasantly, fighting the anger her appearance caused.

She sputtered, clearly caught off guard by his pleasant tone.

Snape cleared his throat rather pointedly, “Indeed, Madam Umbridge, I believe you promised to explain to me why you needed immediate access to my Slytherins?”

Umbridge’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed for a second before they stretched into a thin smile and she began speaking in a sweet tone.  “Oh, yes, Professor.  I was informed there is a Gryffindor boy in here.  One with the intention of spending the night with a girl.  I will not have such things in my school!.  This is a place of learning, after all!”

“That may be so, Madam Umbridge, but I am afraid there is nothing you can do to stop this from happening,” Professor Snape said.

“We’ll see about that!” Umbridge snapped, her smile gone as quickly as it had arrived.  Draco had to bite his lip to stop from laughing as she stormed up to the one bed with closed curtains.  She ignored the note, the runes, and the salted _Allium Sativum_ root.

Her pudgy fingers reached out to grab the bed curtains, and they did, the shimmering wall didn’t stop her, though it did become more opaque, not that Umbridge seemed to notice.

It was then that Draco realized the full purpose of the rune and roots.  They weren’t there to create a real shield, just to strengthen any spells that had already been cast.

Such as a sticking charm.

Or ancient magical and legal protections.

She tugged on the curtain and nothing happened.  She tugged again and scowled.  She tugged for a third time and was immediately thrown backwards with a loud bang; Snape deftly stepped to the side as she went flying past to smack into the hard stone walls and slump down to the floor.

Everyone stared at her for a moment, no one quite expecting that response.

It was - of course - Professor Snape that recovered first.

“Madam Umbridge, I fear that not even the High Inquisitor can ignore the law.  If you had merely taken a moment to read the note, you would have seen-”

But Umbridge wasn’t listening.  She had stood up, using the wall for support, and pointed her wand at the bed.

Draco did not know what spell she cast, but the result was nasty.

The spell rebounded and hit Umbridge full in the chest.  Her robes began to smoke, as did her hair.  A second later they began burning away - without a flame in sight.

Umbridge screamed as everyone gaped at her in shock.

Then Snape - rather slowly Draco thought - raised his wand and performed what appeared to be a rather complicated counter-curse.

The smoking stopped, but Umbridge’s robes were in tatters and her hair was burned worse than Luna’s had been after the Battle of Malfoy Manor.  Only small patches of hair were left, with the skin around them burned red and beginning to blister.

She was now moaning in pain and Hermione snickered rather evilly in Draco’s head.  The sound echoed through his head and caused heat to curl low in his stomach.  How had it taken him so long to realize just how attractive she was?

“Madam Umbridge, I told you there was a note.  But, as you have decided that reading is beneath you, I shall summarize it for you.  Mr. Longbottom and Miss Parkinson are engaged.  The Minister of Magic has recognized their engagement both magically and legally.  I’m sure you know what that means?”  Professor Snape stated coldly.

Umbridge let out a small noise that was more of a whimper than a moan.

“Good.  Now, let us leave my Slytherins to enjoy their Saturday evening while I escort you to the Infirmary.”

Umbridge simply whimpered in reply as Snape grabbed her upper arm and roughly steered her out of the room.  The door slipped shut and they all sat there in silence for a moment, until Tracey said, “Merlin, that was the best thing I’ve seen in months.”

“Point,” Draco said, making everyone look at him, most in mild confusion.  He chuckled, “Never mind.”

_I think I need to write another, short little article._

_Don’t use your name._

_What should I use then?  Phoenix?  Isn’t that a bit odd?_

Draco thought for a moment and then asked aloud, “Any suggestions for pen names for Hermione to use?  What with the new rule, she should be careful.  She needs one that can’t legally be tied to her, but will let everyone know it’s her.”

“I suggest she do something Black or Black something,” Blaise said.  “It’s not just a name.”

“Black Phoenix?” Theo asked.

Neville pushed the curtain back open, “No, that’s silly.  What about Black Heiress?”

Draco shook his head, “Too descriptive.”

_I agree.  I’m the only Black Heir there is._

“Youngest Black?” Blaise asked.

“Again, too descriptive,” Draco said.

“No it’s not,” Tracey said.  “Technically Draco is a Black and he’s younger.”

“Smartest Black?” Theo suggested, “I mean, she is the top of our class.”

_Merlin, that sounds ridiculous.  Oh, yes, I’m the smartest!  Smarter than Narcissa, Aunt Andy, Dora, Padfoot, or you.  No, not smartest.  I may be clever, but I can bet your mum will always think circles around me._

Draco chuckled, “Hermione says no, smartest is not the best choice.  For several reasons.”

“What about brightest?” Daphne asked quietly.  “After all, she’s clever, yes, but is also a muggleborn.  She’s a bright spot of hope in a family that has always been known for their involvement in the dark arts.”

“And she is the brightest witch of our age,” Neville said.

_Oh, Merlin, no!  I can’t-_

_Hush, Hermione, it fits._

_But, Draco-_

_No, listen, she’s right.  And the public will know_

_it’s you, but no one can pin it on you._

_Fine._

He felt her pull back at that, leaving an oddly empty space in his head.  He sighed, just what was going on between them?  He’d have to face it soon, he knew that.  But not today.

“Alright, pen name is agreed on - The Brightest Black.  Vague enough it can’t be legally proven as her, but descriptive enough everyone will know.”

Tracey and Daphne stood up.  “All settled then,” Tracey said.  “Now, we’re going to go let people know what occurred here.  Night boys!  Take good care of Pansy.  Got it?”

All four boys nodded, though the threat was unnecessary.

Neville closed the bed curtain again and the girls left.  Draco grabbed his things and headed to the bathroom, leaving Blaise and Theo to return to cuddling.

He felt like he needed a long, hot shower and a good think about exactly what was going on with his feelings towards Hermione.

Before he did something stupid.

XXX

Hermione groaned and crossed her arms, staring in disgust at the sight before her.  

Really, this was too much.

It was true that Filch seemed to be a fan of Umbridge, likely because she kept him supplied with large numbers of students on detention to do his work for him, but this painting….

What if a first year saw it?

An eleven-year-old did NOT need this in their brain.  They would be scarred for life!

She pulled out her wand and began trying to remove the image.

_Hermione?  Where did you go?_

She scowled, she’d only been gone for a minute.  It had been over three weeks since the vititus incident and in that time Hermione didn’t think she’d spent an entire minute by herself.

It was beginning to grate on her.  Besides, just yesterday she had finished writing and sent off her most difficult - if shortest - article yet.  She’d had to be careful to not to reveal who she was so it couldn’t be used as evidence by Umbridge.  All while making sure the world knew just what Umbridge was doing to students here.

And it was already bad enough she had to sign her name as ‘The Brightest Black.’  Really, it was utter ridiculousness and she blamed Draco entirely for it.

_Shove off, Draco.  I can be by myself for a minute._

_‘Mione, Ginger said-_

_Draco...I said, I’m FINE.  Just went to the loo._

_Griffonshit.  Ginger just came back and you weren’t there._

_Hermione…_

_Hold your hippogriffs, I’m not going to be stupid enough to drink anything!_

_But-_

“Hem, hem.”

The little annoying sound cut through Hermione’s thoughts and turned her blood to ice.  She slowly lowered her wand arm a bit and turned around to find the toad staring at her, wand drawn and tapping against her chin.

She knew how this had to look.

And, after everything else, to be caught trying to remove someone else’s prank….

“My office, seven sharp on Friday, and you are stripped of your status as a prefect.  Understand?”  Hermione gaped at the woman as anger slowly rose up inside of her.

“What- but- I didn’t do it!  I was trying to-”

“Don’t lie, Miss Black,” Umbridge said sweetly, her new wig wobbling dangerously on her head.  “We always knew blood would tell.  Now, remove these obscene images immediately or you’ll be serving detention with me for the next two weeks.”

Rage boiled up in Hermione’s chest.  Her vision turned red.  Of all the-

No.

She thought of Draco.  She couldn’t let her rage take control.  She took a deep breath and spun back around.  

She studied the image, feeling it out, and then gave a spell a try.

Nothing happened.

Whomever had done this was exceedingly clever.

And a good artist.

“I’m waiting, Miss Black.”

_Hermione?_

_Later._

_But-_

_LATER!!!_

“Miss Black?”

She tried another spell, but again, it didn’t work.

“One minute,” Umbridge said sweetly.

Hermione ground her teeth, her muscles tensing in anger.  She tried one more spell.

The wall exploded.

She was in the middle of coughing the terrible dust out of her lungs when she heard Umbridge speak again.

“Detention for a month I think.”

The sound of Umbridge’s footsteps departing echoed in Hermione’s brain as she continued to cough, anger boiling under the surface, feeding on her own frustrations.  She’d thought they’d have Umbridge gone by now, but no.  Public opinion was swaying, the entire school was behind them, but the Ministry was far behind.

And now Hermione had detention.  The first new marauder to get one from Umbridge.  She cursed and stormed back down the hallway.

Forget the library and studying.  She was going for a walk before dinner.

XXX

Dinner came and went.  

Hermione showed up at Umbridge’s door at seven sharp.

_Don’t drink anything!_

She scowled and ground her teeth.

_I won’t.  Don’t worry.  I swear, you’re worse than Mrs. Weasley!_

Draco had nothing to say to that.

“Come in Miss Black,” Umbridge called through the door.

Hermione came in and found the room arranged differently than before.  A small desk sat in the middle of the room, a piece of parchment and a black quill resting on top.  

Umbridge gestured towards the desk,  “Take a seat, Miss Black.  You’ll be writing lines.”

Hermione ground her teeth, but took a seat.  Better to get this over with.  Maybe she could use her detention tomorrow to slip something nasty into Umbridge’s office.

“What shall I write?” Hermione asked, picking up the quill.

“I must respect authority,” Umbridge said sweetly.

Hermione nodded and then reached into her bag to pull out a bottle of ink.

“Oh, you don’t need ink, Miss Black.  The quill supplies its own.”

Hermione frowned and stared at the quill.  Most self-inking quills were small and rather thick, like the one she kept attached to her journal.  She stared at the black quill for a moment, curious how it worked.

“Kindly begin, Miss Black.  Time's awasting.”

Hermione had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from giving a retort.

She just had to get this over with.

Taking a deep breath she put the quill to the parchment and began wrote: _I must respect authority_.

She let out a gasp of pain.  The ink on the parchment was a shiny red, and as it appeared so did the words on her on the back of her hand.  They were practically cut into her hand.  As she watched the cuts healed over, leaving fresh, raw skin on the back of her hand.

Nausea swam up inside of her.

No.

NO.

NO MORE WORDS.

She threw the quill down and stood up, twisting to pull out her wand.

She never made it.

Umbridge had had her wand out and at the ready.

“ _Imperio_!”

Instantly Hermione felt calmer, as if she was floating on air.

“Sit down and write your lines.  I must respect authority.  It’s time you learned just who is in charge here.”

Hermione sat, picking the quill back up.

She began to write.  Not even flinching at the pain.

“Faster.”

Her quill sped across the parchment.  Line after line.  When the parchment was full she flipped it over, filling the other side.  

Inside she was screaming.  Shaking the chains.

She was just finishing the second sheet of parchment when part of her broke free.  She didn’t know how it happened.  She could still hear the voice, telling her to write.  She could still feel her hand speeding across a third sheet of parchment.  

But she was no longer there.

No, she was gone from her body.  Following the chain.  Finding Draco, finding her anchor.  She was strong, but not strong enough to throw off the unforgivable curse.  No, that was Harry who could do that.  Hermione didn’t have that kind of strength.

Then, she was there.

_Draco!_

Instantly he was beside her, there in his mind.  A place full of comfort, like the little stream by Luna’s house.  It made her feel safe.

_Hermione!  What’s wrong?_

_She has me writing lines with a cursed quill.  Under the Imperius.  I-I can’t break free._

She was shaking.  The idea of more words on her skin.  Words she couldn’t hide under robes.  She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling lost.

And then he was there, holding her.  

She sank into his warmth.  His hands rubbed over her arms and it was then she realized something she never had before.

She was practically naked in his mind, wearing not much more than she did to sleep.  Had it always been like this and she hadn’t noticed?  Or was it because of the imperius curse?  She didn’t know.

His hands were touching her bare, scarred skin.  She flinched and tried to jerk back, but he held her tight.

_It’s alright, Hermione.  I’ll be there in a moment.  I’m sure Pansy has something we can use.  We’ll get you out.  Alright?  
_ She nodded, flinching again as his fingers ran over the raised lines forming the word ‘Filth.’

_Okay, I need to go now.  I’ll be there soon, got it?  And don’t do anything stupid._

She nodded again, unable to form words as he continued to touch her scarred skin.

A moment later she was alone.  Shaking once more she moved back down the chain until she was in her own mind.  Watching her own body mutilate itself.

Old nightmares, ones from right after she found the diary flashed in her mind.  She cried out, though no sound came from her mouth.

Then Harry was there.

Barely.

He was much weaker than he had ever been before and she knew their connection was weakening, changing.  Still, she took comfort in his presence as he sent her an image of Draco and a strange box in his hand running out of the library, Harry’s shimmery cloak flying behind him.

BANG!

The door to Umbridge’s office flew open, slamming against the stone wall.  Umbridge let out a screech of surprise.

A jet of red light flew from the emptiness in the doorway, sending Umbridge sprawling.  Instantly the fog lifted from Hermione’s mind.

She dropped the quill as if it was a hot coal and felt her stomach twist.  Just as Draco took her wrist she turned and vomited all over the gaudy pink and yellow rug resting on the floor.  He held her hair back as she lost the little she had eaten at dinner.

When she sat up she saw that there were two more figures in the doorway.  She blinked back the tears burning her eyes and gasped, “What-?”

“Go on, Colin, grab the pictures.  Quick.”

It was Mclaggen.

Hermione could barely process as little Colin Creevy rushed over, his camera in hand.  As he was snapping pictures of her hand, the many pieces of red-covered parchments in front of her, and the black quill she saw the shine of white words on Creevy’s hand.

She felt sick again.

It wasn’t hard to snag Creevy’s wrist, “You-you lied to me.”

He shrugged and pulled his arm away, “Telling wouldn’t have done anything.”

Rage boiled up inside her, pushing away the nausea.  “Wouldn’t have done anything?  Wouldn’t have done anything?!?!  Colin Creevy!  Of course it would have done something!  I could have-”

“What?  Told a professor?  Wrote about it in the paper?” Mclaggen asked scornfully from the doorway.

“Well, yes,” she said simply.

Mclaggen snorted, “Griffonshit.  That would have done nothing in the long run.  Now we have proof.  And not just any proof.  Proof she did this to the heir of an ancient house.  Not just a convicted juvenile delinquent or a poor muggleborn.  Your birth carries weight.”

Draco threw back the hood of the invisibility cloak and pulled Hermione into his arms.  “Stuff it, Mclaggen.  Hermione is just as much a muggleborn as Creevy.  Though I do understand your reasoning.  Now, are you done?  I really suggest you get out of here before my stunner wears off.”

“But-” Hermione started, only to be cut off by Creevy as he broke free of her hold and reached out to grab the black quill out of her limp hand.

“All done here, Cormac.  We get them developed and we’ll have plenty of proof.”

“Good.”

Mclaggen and Creevy disappeared as quickly as they had arrived.  Hermione and Draco stared after them in shock, only to be interrupted by Umbridge suddenly moaning as she began to regain consciousness.

“Let’s go,” Draco said quickly, throwing the cloak over Hermione and moving her out the door.  They were partly down the hallway when he turned and threw the small box he was holding.  It landed right in front of Umbridge’s door.

It did nothing for a moment, just an innocent little wooden box, but then Draco waved his wand and muttered something Hermione couldn’t quite hear.

The box fell open and a strong odor of rotten vegetation filled the hall, quickly followed by stinky water spilling out of the box.  They watched it for a moment, and then Umbridge appeared.  Standing in the doorway to her office she gazed at the quickly expanding swamp for a moment - now practically trapping her in her room -  before suddenly screeching, “HELP!!!”

It took a moment, but footsteps began running towards them.  Hermione’s hand burned in pain, but Draco seemed to know this, moving around her to grab her left hand and then pulling her into a run.  They’d made it about a hundred feet when they saw Filch and Snape hurrying towards them.

Panic filled Hermione’s chest.  She couldn’t deal with anyone else right now.  She could barely deal with Draco, and he was her anchor!

A familiar faded tapestry fluttered.  She gasped in recognition and skidded to a stop, yanking on Draco’s arm and slipping behind the curtain with him.

They stood there, panting in the small alcove, moonlight spilling through the arrow slit above them.

He reached down and took her right wrist, looking at the back of her hand.

“Hermione...I’m so sorry…I should have-”

The tapestry was thrown back, cutting off Draco’s words  and she held her breath as she saw Filch’s angry eyes peer around the small space.  He reached out, just missing them as they leaned away from him.  Scowling, he pulled back and let the tapestry fall.

She looked up, meeting Draco’s silver eyes with her own bronze ones.  

In his eyes sat an emotion she’d never thought to see from him.

Her left hand tightened and his free hand came up to brush a strand of hair off her cheek.  Her breath caught and her whole body begin to tingle.  

_Draco…_

He leaned down and she felt herself move up onto her toes, her eyes fluttered closed as they drew close, but not before she saw his own eyes drift shut.

A soft brush.

She gasped at the spark that small touch ignited and he pulled back.

_Hermione…_

The question was evident.

She opened her eyes and looked at him.  Searching his eyes for an answer to a question she was afraid to form.

What she found there made her nod.

He smiled and leaned back down.

This time he didn’t pull back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If that left you wanting more and you can't wait until next week, I did put up a little dramione one-shot on Valentine's Day entitled 'The Brigade'. 
> 
> And I'll see you all next week! Hope you enjoyed! ;)


	52. Accusations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco attempt to figure out what to do now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always to my amazing betas! :)

 

Time had no meaning to Draco. All that existed was the warmth of Hermione's soft hand in his own, her damp lips moving against his, and her sweet warmth pressing against him.

He wanted to reach up, wrap his arms around her back and pull her close, but he was afraid to move closer, afraid to touch her anymore than he already was. Afraid she might realize just how insane it was for them to be kissing right now. How world-changing their kiss was.

A small, distant part of him screamed that he should stop, that doing this was a mistake. They were cousins, friends, chained together by magic.

This was wrong.

Another part yelled that right or wrong didn't matter, it was the timing. They were hiding from authorities, she'd just been tortured.

But it wasn't wrong and there was never a wrong time to do this. Another louder part of him argued. They were only barely related and currently hiding under an invisibility cloak. Besides, he wanted this. She wanted this. Hell, even his mother wanted this!

She was the one to pull back first and he let out a small whimper of regret. His eyes opened and met her gaze as he panted for breath.

Over the sound of their breathing he could now hear shouting and screaming.

"We-we have to go," Hermione whispered.

He nodded, "Right."

"I-I need to find Colin and Mclaggen. Get those pictures. Write an article. File a complaint." She held up her hand, letting the moonlight shine on the faint words there. They were nowhere near as visible as her other scars, but he could see the disgust and fear on her face as she gazed at them.

He reached out and lightly grasped her hand. She stood there frozen in shock as he raised it to his lips, pressing a light kiss on top of the new, raw scar.

She gasped and yanked her hand away, cradling it to her chest.

"Don't."

His heart lurched, but he nodded, this wasn't the time to discuss that. "Alright."

She seemed surprised for a moment before nodding firmly. "Thank you. We-we need to go."

He gave her other, unscarred hand a light squeeze and began moving them to the tapestry.

"I was attacked! By Miss Black! Find her! Find her and call the aurors! I want that brat in Azkaban!"

"Crap."

Hermione's soft voice perfectly echoed his own thoughts.

"Here. Hold this."

She shoved her school bag in his hands and then dug around in it until she pulled out her drawstring pouch. A moment later she pulled out her journal and a small travel quill.

_Do you have your coin?_

He nodded.

_Change it to say, 'Journal, now.' We can't leave here. They'll likely see the tapestry move._

"Just WHERE are you going?" Umbridge's voice screeched from the other side of the tapestry.

Whomever responded was not nearly as vocal, because a minute later Umbridge was once again screaming about untrustworthiness, treason, and how she was not letting Professor Longbottom out of her sight.

Draco set her bag down so he could pull out his fake galleon and change the message on it as Hermione began scribbling away in the journal.

_Fred and George are telling the Order. There's no way we can run back to our dorms and pretend nothing happened. She imperioed me and you stunned her._

_Agreed._

Hermione scribbled away some more, her quill moving across the journal with lightning speed. Only the pursing of her lips showing the pain caused from writing more. He found himself entranced by her lips. He wanted to bend down and kiss her once more. Tuck a finger under her chin and have her look back up at him.

But he didn't. He was rational enough to know that kissing once was not the smartest idea right now, but kissing twice would be moranic. What with the screeching toad on the other side of the tapestry.

_Help is on the way. Padfoot is fit to be tied. Uncle Remus, the Weasleys, Mr. Lovegood, and your mum are chasing after him._

_Think Sirius will kill her?_

She looked up and gave him a terrifying smile.

_I hope so._

XXX

It was less than an hour later that a great, angry roar came through the tapestry.

It was cut short abruptly and Draco had to grab Hermione's arm to stop her from rushing from under the cloak and into the corridor.

_Slowly! We need to see the situation._

_But, Padfoot-!_

_He's a trained auror and deadly with a wand. Plus, he's not alone._

And, indeed, at that moment another voice cut clearly through the tapestry, bringing a smile to Draco's face.

"Why, good evening Dolores. I'm sure you don't mean to have your wand aimed at me, do you?"

Hermione reached out with her wand and tapped the tapestry. It wavered for a moment and then began inching slowly to one side. When there was an inch wide gap between the stone wall and the tapestry she tapped it again.

Draco couldn't help but be mildly impressed, not at the simple spell, but rather at the careful precision her spellwork had required.

They peered through the gap. The angle wasn't great, but Draco could see Umbridge perched on a small wooden platform floating in the newly formed swamp. Every minute or so she would reach up and bat away one of the many insects that seemed to have appeared with the swamp water. Standing on the edge of the swamp, right outside the tall, insect infested marsh grasses was Professor Snape, Professor Longbottom, and Sirius Black. Professor Longbottom had a good hold on Sirius' collar, stopping him from wading into the swamp and tearing Umbridge apart limb by limb. A few steps behind them was Draco's mother and several other Order members. Including Mr. Lupin, who twitched and sniffed the air for a moment before casually looking around until his gaze fell on where Hermione and Draco were hiding.

Draco turned and glanced at the moon over his shoulder. It was almost full - no wonder the wolf could smell them.

Umbridge blinked in surprise, staring down her stubby little wand at the collection of people now before her.

"Well, Dolores? We can't stand here all evening. That puddle of water you're standing over does reek rather outrageously."

His mother's tone was the exact same one she used when serving tea to visitors. It made Draco want to snicker, but he bit his lip and buried his face in Hermione's soft hair. She leaned back against him for a moment and then gave the hand still interlaced in her own a squeeze.

"What-what are you _doing_ here?!" The Dungmistress finally screeched, not lowering her wand at all.

Somehow his mother managed to stand up even taller, "We heard there was a disturbance involving our children and that aurors had been called. Why else would we enter the school in the middle of term."

Draco could practically hear the gears in Umbridge's head trying to spin and make sense of this.

Sirius seemed to have regained control of himself by now. He stepped back from the swamp and stood tall. His aristocratic face was carved into a deep frown and his hands were shaking in rage, but his voice was as cool as his cousin's.

"You did mean to notify us that you had called the aurors about our children, did you not? An Undersecretary at the Ministry of Magic would never dream of doing anything illegal."

Umbridge sputtered, "Of course I meant to notify you! I was just awaiting the aurors!"

It was clear to Draco and likely to everyone else that Umbridge had meant to do no such thing. She'd likely meant to have Hermione arrested and 'accidentally' obliviated to make her story line up.

And, indeed, a second later several more figures approached at a run from further down the hallway. A tall black man Draco didn't know, but had seen before somewhere was in the lead. There were four more aurors behind him and trailing at the back was Minister Fudge and Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour.

_I think we should go out there._

Hermione moved to come out from under the cloak, but Draco stopped her.

_Wait. Think like a Slytherin. We need to see how this plays out a bit more. Remember how they reacted to all of you saying Voldemort had returned? Right now it's in the Minister's best interest to support Umbridge. He appointed her, if she's convicted for what she did he'll go down, too. Especially if Voldemort comes out of hiding._

She froze for a moment - thinking - before she nodded, the back of her head rubbing against his chest. Her hair tickled his neck and sent shivers down his spine, forcing him to put a bit of distance between their hips before she realized just what her close proximity was doing to him.

"Headmistress Umbridge! Just what is happening at this school? Why are you standing in a swamp?!" Minister Fudge sounded completely bewildered.

Draco thought he could hear the Dungmistress' teeth grinding from here.

"Miss Black was in my office, serving detention for defacing school property with a vulgar image when someone burst into the office and attacked me. Then-"

"Now, wait a minute! Hermione would NEVER deface school property! Especially not with anything vulgar!" Mrs. Weasley said furiously, storming to the edge of the swamp.

"I fear, hem hem, that you are incorrect," Umbridge said, glaring down her wand at the red-haired woman. "Miss Black has no respect for authority of any kind. She blatantly publishes lies, attacks professors, defaces school property, and encourages others to do the same! Now, hem hem, I was attacked and stunned. When I awoke the brat was gone and this swamp was here! I want her found and punished! She'll be expelled for this and tried in court as an adult! She's of age!"

The toads face had shifted from a mild red to a dark purple as she ranted, it was rather fascinating to watch.

_Well, this is certainly problematic._

"Point," Hermione whispered so quietly he almost didn't hear her.

"Arrested for what?" his mother asked sweetly. "You said yourself that someone else broke in and stunned you. All you know is that when you awoke she was gone. She is a rather wealthy heiress. And her father was an auror for many years. He has lots of enemies. What if she's been kidnapped? Do you plan to arrest her for being kidnapped?"

_That's bloody brilliant!_

Draco watched as Fudge and Umbridge struggled to respond to this question. Obviously they had never considered that an outside party had interrupted their plans to fully discredit Harry Potter and Hermione Black. Still, he couldn't quite see what was brilliant about it.

_How is it brilliant?_

She turned and looked up at him, her lips much too close to his own.

_So, I was thinking, and right now we don't have anyone with two brain cells and any power in the Ministry. So I would indubitably spend time-_

_What's a brain cell?_

_Intelligence. -spend a long time in a cell until my trial. And even then we can't guarantee a trial in the present political climate. So, I'll go hide in the Shifting Room. You can bring me food and we'll forge a ransom letter. Make the 'kidnappers' drag out the proceedings. Then, either when Voldemort shows his hand or someone with brains gets power I'll 'escape'._

_Isn't pretending to be kidnapped and sending random notes to your father illegal? Aren't we trying not to do anything illegal?_

_Barely, but yes._

_Hermione…._

_Okay! Maybe I'll just hide and not send the notes._

The lovely thing about speaking mind to mind was that it was much faster than speaking out loud.

"No! Miss Black was not kidnapped! She is a troublemaker and a delinquent!" Umbridge stated angrily finally.

"How do you know?" His mother asked sweetly. "Unless you weren't actually stunned…"

"Yes, do tell, Madam Umbridge," Rufus Scrimgeour said, his voice a deep growl. "I didn't know you had any auror training. Unless you learned it in the same place you gained this previously unknown educational experience?"

"I am a high-ranking Ministry official! It is my _duty_ to be well versed in a number of matters!"

"Indeed, Headmistress Umbridge always has answers to my questions. She's quite well-informed," Fudge said.

Then the most surprising of sounds broke through the awkwardness in the corridor.

Severus Snape laughed.

Everyone turned to stare at him in shock.

"Madam Umbridge? Well-versed?" He said between scratchy, underused chuckles. "This is the woman that failed to understand only a Headmistress appointed by the Board of Governors can stay in the Headmaster's Tower. Just this past week she _ignored a direct order_ from the Minister himself and got herself badly injured in the process. All to try and punish Professor Longbottom's son."

Fudge frowned, "What order? I issued no orders about the Longbottom boy."

Now it was Professor Longbottom's turn to laugh as Draco's mother gave an evil little smile.

"Why, Minister, don't you remember issuing an order to protect Pansy Parkinson and her betrothed?"

Fudge stared at Mother in confusion. "Well, yes. Mr. Parkinson asked me to officially recognize it. Said they'd had threats recently. And he's always been a loyal…"

Fudge trailed off, a look of horror coming on his face as he realized just who Pansy Parkinson was betrothed to.

Sirius Black let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Fudge, you're finished. You know that? Your biggest supporters are leaving you. Lucius Malfoy died protecting his son from an enemy you refuse to believe is real. His widow - the extraordinary Narcissa - cannot stand you. You alienated Rufus here when you made him lose two of his best aurors - no, Alice, don't argue, you were an amazing auror. The public is laughing behind your back at the increasing inaccuracies appearing in the Daily Prophet. The Fae Chronicles is now the bestselling paper in the British Isles. It didn't help that you put someone in charge here at Hogwarts with no educational experience. Hogwarts is one of the top wizarding schools in the world! You think what happens here goes ignored? And now, Roy Parkinson, one of your biggest financial contributors has turned on you. Tricked you. You're a fool and I am counting the minutes until you are gone from office."

As if on cue, as everyone was still reeling from Sirius' words, Professor Mcgonagall came storming through the swamp. Her wand was out and the stinking water was parting before her every step. Draco had to bit back a chuckle as the Dungmistress' platform wobbled in the ensuing waves, throwing a look of terror on her toad-like face.

"Dolores Jane Umbridge! As Deputy Headmistress I hereby declare that an immediate investigation by non-partial aurors be opened on your methods! Rufus Scrimgeour!"

The lion-maned Head Auror straightened like a naughty school boy called out in class. "Yes, Professor Mcgonagall?"

The older witch came to a stop at the edge of the swamp and pulled a stack of photographs out of her robes. She held them up for everyone to see.

The first photo was of Hermione's hand, the words etched into it clear for all to see. Hermione flinched in his arms and he pulled her closer. He knew she didn't like others seeing her scars.

"I hereby accuse Dolores Umbridge of torturing students through the employment of cursed objects and using the Imperius Curse!"

Professor Mcgonagall's words echoed through a corridor so silent that Draco was half-afraid to breath for fear of being discovered.

_Well, there goes the plan to pretend I've been kidnapped. Stay hidden._

Hermione's words were just sinking into his skull as the witch slipped out of his grasp and entered the corridor - causing surprised looks to appear on everyone's faces except for Remus Lupin.

"I would like to lodge a second formal complaint with the Ministry of Magic. I, a student of Hogwarts, hereby accuse Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge of ordering me to use a cursed quill during a detention. I also accuse her of using the Imperius Curse on me after I refused to use said cursed quill. Aurors," she stopped and swallowed rather audibly, "may I present my hand and the words carved upon it as evidence."

She held up her hand, the faint red words mirroring the image Professor Mcgonagall was showing.

Draco wanted to jump out, offer Hermione his support, but he was unable to move as he watched every pair of eyes stare at Hermione's small, pale hand.

Draco could see the rage building up inside of Sirius Black, but, before it could be released Rufus Scrimgeour raised his wand and cast a spell at Umbridge.

Her wand flew from her hand even as ropes wrapped themselves around her shocked figure. Even as Scrimgeour stated quite furiously, "Madam Umbridge, you are hereby under arrest for the possession and use of cursed objects, magical torture of a fellow magical being, lying to the Ministry, and the use of an unforgivable curse."

All the Dungmistress could do was gape, her mouth hanging open in complete shock as one of the many flies landed on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's gone from Hogwarts! Isn't that glorious? Also, I wish I could actually draw as the image of Mcgonagall storming through the swamp as it parts around her is truly glorious in my mind. Hopefully I was able to paint it in words.
> 
> Thank you ever so much for all the lovely readers I have here on Ao3. I adore each and every one of you :)


	53. Judgements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry follows Draco. Articles are published. Things are learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to my lovely betas as always :)

Harry raced through the halls of Hogwarts, trying to catch up with Draco.  Bloody idiot!  Harry hadn’t given him permission to take his cloak!  The prat had just started digging through Harry’s bag, grabbed his priceless family heirloom, and run off.

He skidded around a corner and crashed into someone.  As he fell he saw something black and shiny falling with him.  He didn’t even think, reaching out to catch it.

His hand hit the other boy’s and the object went flying again.  

“Got it!”

Harry blinked stupidly up at the figure of Cormac Mclaggen standing over him, panting and holding a camera in his hand.

It was little Colin Creevey that Harry had crashed into.  Looking at the younger boy Harry saw panic in his wide eyes.

Harry scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding and anger already flowing through his veins.  He yanked out his wand.

“Mclaggen!  You give that back to Colin right now!!!  Or I’ll make you regret it!”

Mclaggen had been turning to move past Harry, but now froze, staring at the wand pointed at his chest.

“What the-”

“Now, Mclaggen!!!”

“No, Harry!  Stop it!”

Harry’s wand arm was grabbed by Colin, making Harry gasp in surprise.

“But, Colin-”

“Cormac is helping me! We just got photographs of Umbridge torturing your sister, right before Malfoy rescued her!  See!”  Harry found Colin’s pale hand shoved in his face.  

The words carved there made his stomach lurch.

“I must respect authority,” Mclaggen said, holding up one of his own hands.  The words were the same, though the handwriting was different.

If this was what had been done to Hermione…

He put his wand away.  “Where are you going to develop the photos?”

“I have things up in my room,” Colin said.

Thoughts raced through Harry’s head.  He looked at Colin.  As annoying as the boy could be, he didn’t have a nasty bone in his body.  As for Mclaggen…

Harry looked at the older boy.  True, Harry didn’t really trust him, but if you counted him snatching the camera before Umbridge could get it, then this was the third good thing he’d done in the past few weeks.

“I may have a better place, but, first, Mclaggen, why are you doing this?”

Mclaggen somehow managed to scowl and raise one eyebrow at the same time.  It was quite impressive and Harry was certain that Hermione would be jealous if she could see that expression.

“What?  The forced self-mutilation isn’t enough reason?”

Harry shook his head, “You got that after helping Colin keep that camera away from Umbridge.”

“Cormac, you don’t have to say.  We don’t need Harry’s help. We can just-” He turned to slide past Harry, but was stopped by Mclaggen grabbing his arm.

“No, it’s alright, Colin.  Potter, it’s a long story, but if you take us to this better, closer place I’ll explain.  Just accept for now that Umbridge was very against me passing my service program and returning to Hogwarts.  I _loathe_ that woman!”  He practically spat the last sentence out.

Well, mutual hatred was enough reason for Harry. At least reason enough to show them the Shifting Room.  Umbridge wouldn’t walk away from hurting Hermione this time.  

Not if he could help it.

“Right.  Follow me.”

He turned and ran back the way he had come.  The sound of two sets of feet following him.

The Shifting Room did not disappoint him.  When he threw open the door he found the room lit with red light and tables prepared with everything Colin could need to develop his pictures.

Harry moved in quickly and ushered the other two Gryffindor boys to follow him inside.

“What-what is this place?” Colin gasped.

Harry shrugged, “Not sure.  Draco found it.  The room changes to suit your needs.  Luna dubbed it the Shifting Room.”

“It’s magnificent!  Magic is so amazing!”  Colin exclaimed as he hurried over to one ot the tables and began working on the film.

Harry stood beside Mclaggen, an uncomfortable awkwardness falling over the air as they watched Colin work.

Harry pointedly cleared his throat, “Will you explain now?”

Mclaggen sighed and glanced around.  Instantly a small table with two chairs appeared nearby, they went to sit.

They sat for a moment, only Colin’s happy humming breaking the silence.  Mclaggen had his head in his hands, he seemed to be struggling and Harry was smart enough to know that asking again would likely destroy any chance of an explanation.

Finally, Mclaggen took a deep breath and began speaking.  “As you know I was suspended from school for a year.  I spent five days a week working in St. Mungos.  They-they put me to work doing the nastiest chores.  Ones that were  dangerous to complete with magic due to possible contamination.  It gave me a lot of time to think.  That first week I was so angry.  I wanted to lash out and hurt someone, anyone.  Then-” he stopped and took another deep breath, “well, then, I went to the Ministry on Friday.  Your godfather was waiting for me in the Atrium.  He took one look at me, then grabbed my shoulder and walked me over to a floo rather than through the checkpoint.  I was surprised that we were in a house - I later learned it was yours.  We ended up where he always trained you and Black.  He asked if I knew how to duel.  We ended up dueling for over an hour.  And that’s only because it took me that long to realize he was toying with me.  I had myself convinced that no one could do better than me in anything.   I didn’t want to believe he could’ve defeated me in less than a minute.  But he did just that in the next duel.  Then he took me back to the Ministry, sat me at a desk, and set me to work researching for him.  I-I’d never had someone treat me that way before.  He never told me I was wrong, never gave me a chance to talk my way out.  Just showed me how I was wrong.  Then, about a month before I finished my service you got yourself kidnapped and he quit.  He did sign off on my passing the program, as did Auror Longbottom.  That’s the only thing that saved me from Umbridge.  She was as determined to throw me in Azkaban as she is to discredit you and Black.” He grew quiet again and Colin’s humming once more took over the room.

Harry could only think of one question.  “If you respected Padfoot, why were such a wanker on your first day back at Hogwarts?”

Mclaggen took so long to answer that Harry was sure the older boy wasn’t going to answer.

“Because, Potter, you and your sister stole from me the only adult that ever treated me like a real person.”

“But- your parents?”  Harry asked.

Mclaggen snorted, “My parents love me.  They adore me.  I can do no wrong to them.  But they certainly don’t treat me like a real person.”

Harry didn’t really understand, but he was saved from a reply by Colin exclaiming, “Done!  Let’s go!”

The younger boy was already halfway out of the room as he spoke.  Harry and Mclaggen had to rush to catch up with him.

Harry wasn’t quite sure where they were going at first, but he wasn’t really surprised when they arrived at Professor Mcgonagall’s door.  

Really, who else would they go to?

XXX

“I would like to add theft of a Class X restricted substance to those charges.”

Hermione, along with everyone else turned to look at the newcomers.  Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, and a large number of students - including Harry - stood behind the four aurors.

“Oh, what substance?”  Scrimgeour asked as he levitated Umbridge off the platform and over to Auror Shacklebolt.  Hermione noticed that he wasn’t very careful about it.  At one point Umbridge sank up to her knees into the swamp and at another her head bumped into the ceiling.

“Vititus.  After the incident a year and a half ago I sent my tree away and put my few remaining pieces of fruit in my private quarters to keep them away from students.  Professor Snape does still need a small supply for NEWT level potions.  On Umbridge's first day here she came to my quarters to borrow clothes.  At that time she stole some of the fruit,” Professor Sprout stated in a cold, businesslike manner.

“And,” squeaked Professor Flitwick, “we have reason to believe she also dosed a student with it.”

“She dosed me with it,” Hermione said, drawing everyone’s attention back to her.  “Upon waking I immediately sent a letter to the Ministry as I felt I was unsafe going to the _temporary_ Headmistress about a crime she had committed.  I never heard back about it.”

Now everyone looked at Scrimgeour, who was frowning.  

“We never received such a complaint, did we Kingsley?”

Shacklebolt shock his head, “No, sir.”

“Um, I think I know why,” one of the other aurors said quietly.

“Why?” Scrimgeour demanded.

“Madam Umbridge used her power as Undersecretary to reroute all owls to and from Hogwarts to the Ministry for review.  For the children’s safety of course.”

All eyes turned once more on the toad.  She said nothing.  Her eyes rolled around wildly before she rolled them back into her head and pretended to faint.

“Well, Cornelius, are you going to take responsibility?”  Narcissa asked sweetly, arching one eyebrow at the Minister.

Fudge swallowed nervously and looked around at all the eyes glaring at him.

“I didn’t do anything!” he panickedly exclaimed.

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?”  Padfoot asked coldly.

Fudge had nothing to say to that.  No one else had much to add as the aurors took Umbridge away, the crowd of students whispering and muttering to each other.  Hermione could feel her fingers begin to itch when she saw Colin Creevy pull out his camera and snap a picture of the trussed up Umbridge being dragged away.

She needed to grab Colin, find everyone else that had suffered a detention and go write up an article, fast.  She was sure Fudge would use the Daily Prophet to try and do damage control.

She didn’t want that to happen.  No, she wanted the public to demand Umbridge's blood.  

Nothing else would do.

XXX

Pansy reached out and took her copy of the Circadian Leaf from the owl in front of her.  Beside her, Daphne took a copy of the Fae Chronicles.  As Pansy unfolded the paper she glanced around the room, watching as many other students did the same thing.

There was an air of eager anticipation in the Great Hall, one she had only ever seen right before the official announcement of the Triwizard Tournament.

“I really need to stop going to sleep so early.  I miss all the big things.”

Daphne smiled and set her copy of the Fae Chronicles aside to take the Daily Prophet from a grouchy looking barn owl.  “It was rather spectacular last night, but don’t worry.  Lots of pictures were captured by that Gryffindor, Colin Creevy, his camera was glued to his face last night.”

Pansy stared at the gigantic picture of Umbridge being led away by the aurors.  “I see that.  He really is a good photographer.  Too bad the Daily Prophet would never hire him.”

“I don’t think he’d work for the Daily Prophet even if they offered him a million galleons a month,” Draco drawled from across the table.

Pansy gave him a mischievous smile, “I’ll bet you ten galleons they’ll change their mind one day.  Likely after my parents finish buying all the stock.”

“When did your parents start buying stock in the Daily Prophet?”  Blaise asked in curiosity.

“As soon as Hermione published her first article.  Quite a few people no longer wanted to be associated with the Daily Prophet.”

“No surprise there,” Theo said, “I don’t see why your parents want to own it.”

“Because, if they own a majority, they can change it.  It was also a safeguard to stop Skeeter from ever publishing there again when she finished serving her time.  I have a bit of a problem with that witch.”

Draco snorted, “That’s the understatement of the year.”

Pansy just sniffed in reply and began reading what Hermione had written about the night before.

 

**_Stench Uncovered!_ **

**_By The Brightest Black_ **

 

**Last night a terrible crime was committed.  A crime that will likely have all those that care about children or humanity up in arms, determined to see justice done.  Before I tell you this crime I must state that it is a crime that was committed numerous times before last evening.**

**A crime that went unreported as those it was committed against felt they had no safe place to go without proof.  Solid proof.  They obtained this last night.**

**Last night Hermione Granger Black went to serve detention with Madam Dolores Umbridge, High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, temporary Headmistress of Hogwarts, and Undersecretary to the Minister.  Upon arriving she was told she would be writing lines.  The words were to be: ‘I must respect authority.’  This is nothing unusual.  Lines are a common form of detention.  What is not common is the quill that Miss Black was handed.**

**The quill was black and came with no inkpot.  Miss Black was informed that no ink was necessary.  This was due to the fact that the quill wrote with blood.  Blood ripped from Miss Black’s unwilling body as the words ‘I must respect authority’ were carved into her hand.  You see, when Miss Black refused to self-mutilate herself Madam Umbridge used the Imperius Curse to force Miss Black to write the lines. (See page A2 for multiple shots of the forced mutilation)**

**The torture was stopped when an unknown person appeared, stunning Madam Umbridge.**

**Madam Umbridge immediately summoned aurors upon awakening and attempted to accuse Miss Black of attacking her.  This was quickly disproven and the actual person that stunned Madam Umbridge and deposited a perfectly working swamp in the middle of Hogwarts is still unknown.**

**It was at this time that Deputy Headmistress Minerva Mcgonagall arrived with photographic evidence someone had slipped under her door.  Evidence clearly showing what Madam Umbridge had done to Miss Black (see page A2).  Deputy Headmistress Mcgonagall accused Madam Umbridge of torturing students through the employment of cursed objects and using the Imperius Curse.  Upon hearing this accusation Miss Black emerged from hiding and accused Madam Umbridge of using the Imperius Curse to force Miss Black to write with a cursed quill.  Madam Umbridge was promptly arrested by Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour.**

**We must stop to ask, dear reader, just why Madam Umbridge believed she could get away with so many illegal things.  Because, I fear, there is more.**

**Before the aurors could leave with Madam Umbridge Professor Pomona Sprout arrived and accused Madam Umbridge of stealing a Class X restricted substance from her private quarters (See page B7 for a copy of Sprout’s RSX licence).  This is when Miss Black explained that she had been dosed with vititus, and had even sent in a complaint to the British Ministry of Magic.  Head Auror Scrimgeour stated that no such complaint had been seen.  Apparently, Madam Umbridge had been detaining and searching all owls going into and out of Hogwarts.  When searching her office the aurors found numerous packages and letters from students to parents.  All of them - including a box of Belgian chocolate - could not be considered a threat to any Hogwarts student.  This was, of course, Umbridge’s official reason for keeping such mail.**

**Head Auror Scrimgeour has promised a full investigation of these charges, no matter what orders he is given.  I have to ask why he is afraid he’ll be ordered to not investigate such grievous crimes?**

**It also came out that Madam Umbridge attempted - in full view of seven sixth-year students and Professor Severus Snape - to ignore an order  from the Minister and break those most ancient laws protecting the rights of married and betrothed couples.**

**To those who do not know, laws were placed before the time of Merlin protecting all those that are betrothed or married. (See page C3 for a complete list of these laws)  In his order Minister Fudge stated that anyone attempting to separate Miss Parkinson and her betrothed would be tried in a court of law.**

**We await Madam Umbridge's trial with great anticipation.  On all counts.**

 

“Hermione really is a good writer.  I wonder if she’ll go into journalism when she finishes her NEWTs,” Daphne said, finishing her article at the same time as Pansy.

Pansy folded up the Circadian Leaf and grabbed the Daily Prophet as Draco shook his head.  “I doubt she’ll become a reporter.  I’ve never discussed future goals with her, but something tells me she has much grander plans.”

Theo snorted, “Hermione Black?  Grand plans?  Why, _whatever_ gave you that idea?”

The other Slytherins chuckled and Pansy opened the Daily Prophet.

Her gasp instantly silenced the laughter at the table.

“Pans?  What is it?”  Draco asked.

She didn’t respond, choosing instead to skim through the article, a growing sense of dread settling in her stomach.  It was so terrible she wanted to throw up.  To scream and shout and yell for all to hear.  Instead, she dug her fingernails into the palm of one hand and kept reading, the pain keeping her mind from drifting to dark, terrible places.  When she finished the front page article she quickly began searching through the paper.  

She found what she was looking for in a piece so small it was almost a footnote.

 

**_Undersecretary Retires_ **

 

**Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge chose to suddenly retire last night after stating, “I never realized how difficult teaching was.  I’m looking forward to relaxing in my garden for the foreseeable future.  May the next High Inquisitor of Hogwarts find themselves more up to the task than I was.”  Madam Umbridge is retiring to a small cottage in Northumberland.  Minister Fudge has yet to state if he intends to appoint another High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.**

 

“Has Hermione seen this?” Pansy shoved the little footnote across the table at Draco.

He shook his head, “I don’t think so.  I can ask.”

Pansy shook her head and grabbed the entire paper back.  “Don’t bother.  I’ll take it to her right now.”

Before standing she glanced once more at the front page headline.  The very words made her want to vomit.  This was bad, very bad.  Voldemort level bad.  There was no other explanation for it.  

As she hurried across the Great Hall the headline flashed darkly for all to see:

 **Entire Auror Department Charged with Treason**!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll are having a lovely time. And yes, Fudge is an idiot.


	54. Chaos at the Ministry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione reacts to the articles in the Daily Prophet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to my lovely betas as always :)

Draco watched Pansy go, half wondering if he should have insisted on telling Hermione himself that Umbridge seemed to be getting away with nothing but house arrest, disguised as retirement.  

He saw words flash on the paper she holding.  He was too far away to read them, but they made him frown in thought as he went back over what Pansy had just done.  There had been another article.  She’d looked at the front page, hadn’t she?

Hurriedly he looked up and down the Slytherin table.  There.  In a third-year’s hands was another copy of the Daily Prophet.  He pulled out his wand and summoned the paper, ignoring the ensuing shout of protest.  

His heart stopped on reading the headline.  He could only imagine what the article contained.

No.

He threw the paper back at the third-year as he jumped up and raced across the Great Hall.

_Hermione!  Wait a-_

He was too late.

There was a scream of rage and then all the dishes on the Gryffindor table flew into the air, splattering everyone with bits of jam, porridge, pumpkin juice, and other odd bits of edibles.

The entire room froze in shock, staring at the glittering dishes froze in the air.  A few students recovered enough to shriek and cover their heads, awaiting the fall of said dishes.  He could just see Hermione’s face as she pointed her wand up at the air.  Her hair was practically sparking from her anger, but the way her lips were pinched showed she was actually back somewhat in control.

She took a deep breath and then slowly lowered her wand, returning all the dishes to their proper places.  Another wave cleaned up all the food.

“I apologize,” she said clearly, her anger barely visible in her voice.

She turned and left, all eyes were watching her.  It took Draco a moment to get his heart under control and his brain working again.  

Then he was racing off after her, barely noticing Harry and the other New Marauders watching him go.  The same was said for the professors, and Draco was sure Hermione would learn later of a detention.  But now wasn’t the time to worry about that.

She wasn’t in the Entrance Hall any longer, but he had a feeling on where she might go.

_Hermione?_

She chose not to answer, but he didn’t have the feeling she wanted him far away either, so he acted on his feeling and went looking for her.

A few minutes he found himself standing outside the old deserted classroom she had always studied in before this year.  The wards on the door were new.

And also rather terrifying.

Still, he ignored his desire to study them and acted on pure instinct, reaching out to turn the door handle.

The door opened easily.

The entire room was in a shambles, with Hermione standing in the middle of it.

She whirled around and aimed her wand at him as soon as she heard the door click closed.

She was breathing heavily, her dark hair was plastered to her face and neck.  Her eyes were blazing.  More like burnished copper than their typical bronze.

He ignored her wand and walked straight towards her.  When he was about a foot away she dropped her wand and threw herself into his arms.

He just held her, soaking in her anger, like he had soaked in her pain after she woke from the vititus dreams.

As if drawn by that thought, a few still images of her flashed in his head.  Of her crying in frustration at being unable to master flying.  Of him comforting her and offering to teach her.  Of her shouting in joy upon landing and throwing her bony arms around his neck.

The images weren’t real, but the emotions behind them…

He pulled her tighter and buried his face in her hair.

When she stopped shaking she pulled back and looked up at him for a half second before she kissed him.

Last night their kisses had been soft, tentative, exploratory.

This was everything else.

Their tongues dueled for dominance as her fingers twisted in his hair.  He held her tighter, pressing her soft curves against his own lean frame.  Her hips shifted against him and he groaned, yanking his mouth away from hers and pressing small kisses all over her face.  

“Hermione…”

“Draco.”

And then her lips were back on his.  

Nothing existed except each other.

Somehow he ended up leaning against the wall, his robes were in a shambles.  He felt a few buttons pop off his shirt as she yanked at it, pressing wet kisses to his collarbone.  His hands encircled her waist as he leaned his head back against the cold stone.  She traced the arch of his neck with her mouth.  “Mine,” she hissed before nipping at his ear.

His fingers tightened on her waist as he gasped, “Yes.”

She shifted and his fingers tangled in her blouse, pulling it from her skirt.  He used the fabric to pull her once more against him, capturing her mouth once more with his.

She moaned and his fingers relaxed some, beginning to roam.  They slipped beneath her shirt and at the first touch of her soft skin against his hand she froze.

Before he could react she was yanking away from him,  her eyes wide and her face full of panic.

“No!  You-you can’t...No!”

“Her-hermione?  What?”

He blinked at her, confused as his brain tried to get enough blood to think clearly.  His fingers twitched, wanting to hold her once more in his arms.

He’d never felt this way the few times he and Pansy had experimented with kissing back in fourth year.

“My-my skin - there - don’t touch it - please.”  Her voice broke his heart, he’d never heard her sound so weak and helpless before.  It reminded him of how she had looked, lying tied to that hospital bed.

He took a step towards her and she wrapped her arms around herself, hiding her hands.  

Hiding the scar Umbridge had given her.

And that’s when it clicked.

He took a deep breath and moved until he was right in front of her, carefully not touching her.  

“Hermione, don’t worry.  I-I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

She looked up at him and he wanted to do nothing more than pull her to him and hold her close.

“Promise?”

He reached out slowly and cupped her cheek.

Instantly he was in her mind.  Looking at her hiding in the chains.  They were twisted around each other, confused and messy, so unlike what they had always been before.  

_I promise._

He reached out and touched the closest chain.  It and the nearby chains moved out of the way; before he could even think he was inside with her.  Once again she was in his arms.

_We really need to talk about this.  Whatever it is.  Make some rules._

He pulled her tight against him, soaking in the wonderful feeling of her closeness.

_Do we really need rules?  We’ve already got the vow between us._

_The vow?  Oh.  The vow of fealty.  We were rather immature then, weren’t we?_

_Yes.  I’m just glad we didn’t make it an unbreakable vow._

_We had no bonder.  Besides, all we really needed to know was if the other person broke it.  Neither of us ever wanted to kill the other._

He held her tighter, his hands moving up and down her back.

_Are you sure?  I can remember how you looked when I first confronted you about my mother’s plans and the Yule Ball.  When I called you-_

He stopped, not wanting to say the word.  Even without the vow of fealty he didn’t think he’d want to say it.

_That was different.  I was angry.  I-I had never before been so angry._

He pulled back so he could see her face.  

_Why were you so angry?  I know others had called you that._

She looked away, a slight flush appearing on her cheeks.

_Yes.  But they weren’t you._

He had nothing to say to that.  So, instead he closed his eyes and leaned down to kiss her.

When they broke apart they were back in the deserted classroom, surrounded by the debris that had once been furniture.

They were both panting as they looked around the room, his hand slipping away from her cheek to entwine with her unscarred hand.  

She gave his hand a squeeze before she spoke.  “I made a right mess, didn’t I?”

He couldn’t help but smirk down at her, “Don’t you always?”

She rather childishly stuck out her tongue at him before she began waving her wand, repairing all the damage.  He pulled out his own wand and began to help her.  He wasn’t as fast at casting left-handed, but Alianore had made sure he was semi-competent at it.  Typically by sticking a pouch over his right hand and sticking it there so he couldn’t hold a wand before attacking him with stinging hexes.  

When the room was put back together she holstered her wand, and he followed suit.

Finally she addressed what had sent her up here in a fury in the first place, and why he had followed.

“I’m not going to let this stand, you know.  Even if I have to dismantle the entire Ministry and rebuild it.”

What she was saying was practically treason.  Still, that didn’t stop him from saying, “I’ll support you.  Whatever it takes.”

She arched her eyebrows at him, he noticed one stayed a little lower than the other.  It looked a little less ridiculous than it had a few years ago.

“Just how do you plan to support me?  Just because we kissed doesn’t mean I’m going to marry you like your mother wants.”

He rolled his eyes at her, “Hermione, the fealty vow?  I know you don’t support my mother's wish.  And I’ll support you in any way you want.  That’s what family does.  That’s what friends do.  And I think we’re both.  If not more.”

“More?”

He felt his own cheeks heat, “Yes, more.”

She looked down at their feet for a moment, her silky hair falling over her face, hiding it from his view.  He felt as if his very life hung on what her response would be, and he really couldn’t explain why.  

How had he never before realize just how important Hermione was to him?  And not just as family or the other half of his family magic bond, but as herself.

Hermione, scars, temper, and all was the most important person in his life.

After what felt like an eternity she seemed to have decided something.  She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming under thick, black lashes that he’d never really noticed before.  She nibbled at her lip as she gazed at him before finally saying, “More, well, I’d like more too.”

His cheeks practically split as he met her gaze and grinned.  “Good.  Now, how are we going to go about fixing things?”

She frowned, “I’m not quite sure yet, but I do know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“We need to find out why Fudge thought he could accuse an entire department of treason and get away with it.  Because Pansy was right, this smells like Voldemort's doing.”

He nodded in agreement, his mind already racing as it sorted through all the information he knew about the Ministry and how it worked.

This was going to take a bit of work.

XXX

Hermione and Draco were halfway through a list of possible reasons for Fudge being able to accuse the aurors when something tapped at one of the small classroom windows.

They both drew their wands and stood, but it was Hermione who carefully approached the window.

With the way the sun was angled it was impossible to see what was on the other side of the glass until she was at the window.

It was an owl.

A very angry and ruffled owl.

She lifted the latch and swung the window open.  The owl immediately landed on the sill and stuck out one leg to her.  There was a very thick envelope tied to it.

She cast a quick diagnostic spell, but only saw protective spells.  Including several that were entirely foreign to her.  They had to have been cast by Tachiki - or another non-European wizard or witch - as she could at least recognize the roots of most protective spells.  

“What is it?”  Draco asked.

“It’s clean, whatever it is.  The owl was protected by a lot of spells.  Some that were not Latin based.”

“Really?”

Draco was there beside her in an instant, casting his own diagnostic spell.  She felt instantly more secure and safe with his solid presence beside her.

She’d ignored it for so long, but they were definitely more than just friends.  More than just cousins.

“Interesting.  I’ve been studying spell creation.  Did you know?”

She reached out to take the envelope as the owl hooted and impatiently shook its leg again.  “No, have you managed to make anything yet?  I’ve only created objects.  Or tweaked spells.  Like the bags or journals.”

He shook his head.  “No, but I’m getting close on something.  We’ll see how it goes.  What does it say?”

She unfolded the letter and the owl flew off after giving one last, grumpy hoot.

“There are two letters.  Looks like one from Padfoot and one from your mum.  Want to read one, then we’ll switch?”  She held out Narcissa’s letter to him.  

“No, I’ll just read over your shoulder.  Sirius’ first?”

She unfolded Padfoot’s letter and began to read, hyper aware of Draco behind her, his breath almost tickling her ear as he also read.

 

_Hermione,_

 

_Things didn’t end well last night.  Unspeakables arrived at the auror office as Kingsley was booking Umbridge.  All aurors are currently locked up.  Percy Weasley slipped us this information before the Daily Prophet article went up.  Don’t do anything stupid.  Yes, I know you and Harry still will if I don’t give you a reason not to._

_The reason you shouldn’t do anything is you already have._

_After your first Umbridge article, when Xeno got free copies of the Fae Chronicles sent to numerous wizarding houses their subscription list apparently went through the roof.  Just as Daily Prophet subscriptions fell._

_Most people saw your article first._

_They bombarded the Ministry with owls demanding to know what was being done about Umbridge.  When the Ministry claimed ignorance (again, heard from Percy) people showed up in droves at the Ministry.  That’s when everyone heard about the Daily Prophet._

_I have never witnessed such a spectacular event in my entire life._

_It appears the Ministry has finally realized just what a bad idea it is to betray the trust of British wizards and witches.  A population where everyone over the age of eleven is armed._

_The Ministry hired foreign mercenaries to replace the aurors.  The conflict that ensued was not attractive.  The  entire place is still in chaos, but I had to stop and write this to you.  I know you.  I also know you would want to do something about this, as would Harry, Draco, and the rest of your friends._

_Don’t do anything.  Let your words finish working their magic.  We’ll send the owl back with more information later.  Mamoru spelled it to be able to slip past the rerouting spells Umbridge put up._

_I think I should visit Japan when this is all over.  Having spells with different language bases is quite handy._

 

_Love,_

_Padfoot_

 

“Well,” Draco said with awe in his voice, “I didn’t see that coming.”

Hermione nodded, her mind racing with the new information, trying to process it.

Just what exactly did ‘chaos’ mean?

“My mother’s letter?”

She nodded again and folded up Padfoot’s letter.  Putting it in her robes before unfolding Narcissa’s.

 

_Hermione,_

 

_Pull out whatever communication device you have with those devil twins and take the information they give you.  Ignore what Sirius said. I already spoke with them about recording this.  Write another article.  Send it to the world.  We MUST get everything organized quickly before Voldemort can use the current chaos to attack._

_I am told he is still weak, still regrouping, but we must be safe.  I am certain he still has people in the Ministry.  People that either forced or talked Cornelius into this madness._

_The aurors have been released from the holding cells.  Rufus Scrimgeour is taking control as I write this.  Reining in the chaos, he is not my first choice for the next Minister, but he is the only viable option.  He has the people’s support as he was one of the party’s wronged.  He also trusts Sirius and his advice.  For now.  We can deal with him later if needs be._

_Get your information.  Get that article written.  Stay safely inside Hogwarts, if you leave the others will follow you.  You must keep everyone else there as well.  Keep them safe._

 

_Love,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

 

_P.S.  Don’t worry about the Dungmistress.  She has been dealt with.  She will never harm anyone again.  I so swear._

 

_P.S.S.  The grim helped.  He quite enjoyed it._

 

Draco was already digging out his journal when Hermione finished reading.  

“She-she did what I wanted to do!  She dealt with Umbridge!”  Hermione could hear the whine in her voice, but didn’t care.  She’d so wanted to punish her!  To tear that toad apart, make her regret ever daring to hurt Hermione.  

Draco let out a harsh chuckle, “Your dad helped.  And can you blame them?  You got her out of Hogwarts, gave them the chance to finish it.  Now, here’s my journal.  Take a look, Fred and George are very detail oriented.  Forget an article, you could write an article with what they’re giving you.”

She grumbled under breath, but didn’t argue.  Instead she pulled out her own journal and went to take a seat, Draco joining her.

She wasn’t sure she was comfortable with just sitting down and writing, she wanted to take more action.  To be there at the Ministry as things were happening, but Narcissa was right.  If Hermione left then the others would follow.  And if Voldemort was behind this then they needed to keep Harry safe.  An image flashed in her mind, of Voldemort aiming his wand at a kneeling Harry mere seconds before she apparated.

She shivered.

Yes, Harry had to stay safe.  Stay at Hogwarts.  Now that Umbridge was gone it was the safest place in Britain.

She took a deep breath and began to set up her writing supplies.   As she did so Draco reached out and tucked a small strand of hair behind her ear.  She smiled and, before she could think about it, turned to give his hand a small kiss.

He responded by leaning forwards slowly and giving her cheek a small peck before pulling back and meeting her eyes.  He gave her a sweet smile and she blushed, remembering their earlier kisses.

“Let’s get this started?  I’ll help you.  If that’s alright?”

“Yes,” she said as she nodded.  “Yes, that is most alright.”

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely reviews. Yes, Umbridge is now quite dead. Courtesy of Sirius and Narcissa. 
> 
> I'm currently homeless. My husband and I are living with friends until I leave Korea on the 23rd. I have several chapters already written, but haven't had as much writing time, so hopefully I'll get more soon. Hence the very late replies to ya'll's reviews. Or the fact I think my replies were shorter than normal. 
> 
> Hope ya'll have a lovely weekend!


	55. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco realize something rather important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, super thanks to my amazing betas!

The rest of the day sped by for Hermione.  She managed to get an article put together with Draco and the twins sent it off for her.

No one disturbed them in the old classroom, but she did find a short missive stuck to the door from Professor Mcgonagall stating that Hermione had detention with Professor Snape at one the next day for her display of temper at breakfast.

She scowled, annoyed at the loss of an entire afternoon, but didn’t protest.  She was a prefect - assuming Mcgonagall had reinstated her - and she knew what did and did not deserve a detention.  Throwing an entire table’s worth of accoutrements into the air was certainly deserving of a detention.

Even if she had cleaned it all up.

Draco walked her down to dinner, his fingers interlaced with her unscarred hand.  

More.

They were more, but what was more?

It had been simple with Viktor.  He’d asked her to a dance and then they had kept spending time together before amicably ending things at Diggory’s celebratory party in the summer.  She’d always known it would end, though they had exchanged a number of friendly letters over the past two years, there was nothing romantic about them.

Draco was different.

There was no end date.  No certainty of them parting.  Their lives were as intertwined as hers was with Harry.  If not more so.

After all, her link fo Harry would likely break when he turned seventeen, if not when they ceased to live together.  Blood wards didn’t last forever.

The link with Draco was different.  It wasn’t going anywhere.  Not unless she did something as horrific as Voldemort had done to Lucius Malfoy.

And Hermione knew she could never betray Draco that way.  Could never kill someone he cared about.  Primarily because they cared for many of the same people.  

Also, she was sure she could kill if she had to, but she wasn’t a killer.

She wasn’t Bellatrix.

She didn’t seek out pain and death.  Even if she was prepared to meet them head on.  

So, she was tied to Draco for life.  In some form or another.  Was it really smart to travel down this path?

To keep becoming more?

She didn’t know.

When they parted in the Great Hall and went to their own house tables she still wasn’t sure.  She was unable to respond to any of her friends questions about earlier, though they had all read the commentary in the journal.  Had all commented on it throughout the day.

She was still lost in her own thoughts on Draco when owls appeared, delivering a special evening edition of the Fae Chronicles.

Even as she was unfolding the Irish paper a special evening edition of the Daily Prophet also appeared.  It’s headline took up almost the entire front page:

 

**_RUFUS SCRIMGEOUR APPOINTED MINISTER OF MAGIC AFTER CORNELIUS FUDGE STEPS DOWN_ **

 

The rest of the front page, for the very first time, was taken up with Hermione’s own article, still listing ‘The Brightest Black’ as the author.  

The ensuing conversation in the Great Hall was impossible to follow as students and professors poured over the inky newsprint; their dinner completely forgotten.  She did hear Colin Creevy though, when he gasped and shouted, “Umbridge is likely dead!”

He was currently halfway through the paper.

She quickly flipped her Daily Prophet to where Creevy was and began reading.

 

**_Dark Mark Discovered!_ **

**_By Shawn Woo_ **

 

**Aurors arrived at former Undersecretary Umbridge’s house this afternoon to find a Dark Mark floating above her small retirement cottage.  The inside of the cottage was only mussed by a half-eaten lunch in the kitchen.  Aurors found no evidence of foul play outside of the Mark.  Madam Umbridge appears to have disappeared without a trace.**

**Auror Shacklebolt gave an official statement declaring that the Ministry suspects He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a likely culprit as the man has returned from the dead.**

**Something that former Minister Fudge desperately tried to deny, but current Minister Scrimgeour completely believes.**

**Please contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement regarding any information on Madam Umbridge or Death Eaters.**

 

That article, combined with the letter from Narcissa gave Hermione a strong sense of satisfaction, even if she was still put out at being robbed of true revenge on the nasty woman.

Some things were just not to be.  Besides, she rather suspected Narcissa hadn’t let the toad slip off to the next world too easily.  And if Padfoot had helped at all it wouldn’t have been a pretty sight.

Not that Hermione had wanted to kill her.  Not in cold blood.  She didn’t want to become Bellatrix.  But punishment?  Leaving Umbridge to a terrible fate?

Entirely doable.

XXX

The changes at the Ministry were all anyone at Hogwarts talked about for the next week.  That and Umbridge being gone.  At first everyone seemed to give Hermione all the credit for ridding them of the toad, but she did her best to push credit off on Mclaggen and Creevy.  They were the ones that had captured the evidence and brought it to Mcgonagall.  

Harry kept his part in it entirely quiet, as did Draco.  Harry felt as if he didn't deserve the spotlight and technically Draco had been wrong to stun Umbridge, though she suspected that no court would find him guilty of a crime.  Not when Umbridge was accused of using an unforgivable at the time.

Still, it was better to stay quiet and be safe.

They were getting very good at staying quiet.

Outside of their short conversation about being ‘More’ they had said nothing about their change in relationship.  No one else commented on it either.  

She had been sure that when they walked into the Great Hall holding hands there would be questions, but the news from the Ministry had taken over everyone’s minds.  By the time people stopped talking about the Ministry they had all gotten so used to Hermione and Draco being inseparable that it was no more a topic of conversation than Ginny and Harry were.

It was rather relaxing, to tell the truth.

And she needed relaxing, because figuring out her own feelings was stressful enough without everyone else weighing on them.

She sighed and then jumped when a callused finger reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“A knut for your thoughts.”

She gave Draco a smile and captured his hand, giving his fingers a light kiss even as she took comfort in the rough calluses he had from years of handling racing brooms.  She didn’t quite know why they were comforting, but she suspected it was due to Padfoot and Harry having similar calluses.

“Just everything that's going on.  How no one batted an eyelash at us being together.  Even when we’ve been walking around, holding hands all over Hogwarts.  Or how things have grown so quiet.  Almost too quiet.”

Draco frowned, “Did you want people to focus on us being together?”

She shook her head, “No, but I was expecting it.  That’s all.”

His face relaxed and his lips tilted up at the corners.  “So, you’re saying you’re worrying because a negative thing you expected didn’t happen?  That’s a bit silly.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, “Point.  But yes, I am.  Things just seem to be going so well.  What with Umbridge gone and Scrimgeour as Minister.  Makes my skin itch.  Especially as we know Voldemort is still out there, regrouping.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his head, smoothing his hair down.  “I understand what you’re saying, but there’s not a thing we can do about it now.  Maybe this summer, if nothing has occurred, we can become more active.  We’ll both be seventeen then.  But right now we can’t do a bloody thing unless he comes knocking on our door.  Besides, you know what our parents said.  If you go off, or even if the two of us go off, Harry will follow.  And Harry is the one Voldemort really wants.”  He stopped and looked around their deserted classroom for a moment, making sure it was still secure.  “Voldemort doesn’t know the real reason Harry has been able to elude him so many times.   He doesn’t know of the blood wards or that Harry was a horcrux.  Not to mention what happened with their wands in the graveyard.”

His words made something move in her mind.  Information shifted and resorted, organizing itself in such a way that she realized something that had been sitting right in front of her the entire time.

The wands.

“Power the dark lord knows not…” she whispered.  Her mind racing to put pieces together.  There had been so much going on over the past month and a half she hadn’t had much time to think back on her earlier research.

“Hermione?”

“I know why their wands have the same core.  It was the horcrux.  Had to be.  Harry would likely have been holly and phoenix feather, no matter what, but the horcrux inside of him made him connect with the brother wand of Voldemort’s!  And that means…” She pulled away from Draco and reached into her drawstring bag, pulling out one of her many texts on wandlore.  Quickly she flipped through it until she found the section she was looking for.  “Here, listen to this: _...and as long as the owner of a brother wand attempts to use a spell against the owner of the matching brother wand it shall prove unsuccessful.  This cannot be ignored through the use of another wand as long as one owner still wields one of the brother wands - for a wand shall always recognize the owner of it’s brother.  Delving into legend we can only find one instance where this rule was ignored.  One of the owners had mastery of ‘The Death Stick’.”_

“The Death Stick….it must mean the Elder Wand.  From the ‘Tale of the Three Brothers’. But that’s a fairy tale.” Draco said in disbelief.

She looked up at him, “Yes, it’s a fairy tale.  But, as Luna is always saying, every tale has the possibility of being true as long as we have magic.  It’s quite possible someone created a truly powerful wand and then named it after the fairy tale.  Or the fairy tale was inspired by this powerful wand.  I’ve read books that reference a wand above all others.  And if we found this information-”

“-then that means Voldemort may have as well.  I wonder where this wand is.  If it even still exists.”

“It has to exist.  Though if someone died peacefully while in control of it then no one will have its allegiance.”

“Meaning it’s no more powerful than any other wand.”

He nodded, “Yes.  Now, we don’t know what Voldemort's been up to lately.  If Snape is still a double agent he’s either out of contact or not sharing anything around the twins.  That means Voldemort could be looking for a sure way to defeat Harry.”

“And that means the Death Stick.  I wonder where it was last rumored to be…”

He rubbed at his chin, “It’s likely not in any text here in the library.  But I bet Ollivander knows.  What do you think?”

“You’re right.  I doubt letters are getting out yet.  So let me ask the twins.”

She put the text back in her bag and pulled out her journal.  The first few pages were filled with writing from Fred and George explaining the rest of the items they had sent with Pansy.  She flipped past them and began writing.

_ Phoenix _ _: Gred, Forge, I have a favor to ask.  It’s important._

Less than a minute later she got a response, making her frown. “Do they keep the journals open all the time?”

“I doubt it.  I’m betting they figured out a way to modify the journal to let them know when someone is writing.  Or maybe just when someone says their names.  I considered it a while back and may have even mentioned it to them.  Just never found the time to work on it.”

Her frown deepened, “Well, they should share it with the rest of us.  We’re a team.”

Draco snickered, “Sure you’re not just jealous they modified your work?”

“No, after all, you already modified the journals.  Would be rather ridiculous of me to be jealous of them and not you.  I’m just annoyed they haven’t shared it with us.  That’s all.”

“Sure you are…”

She wrinkled her nose at him and gave him arm a light shove.

“You’re a right prat.”

He smirked and wrapped his arms around her as he hooked his foot around the leg of her chair to pull her closer.” Yes, but I’m your prat.”

She had no good response for that so she merely slid her journal over to her new spot at the desk he had helped her repair; picking up her quill and looking down at what Fred had written.  

_ Gred _ _: what do you need?_

Hopefully she could get the twins to run by Ollivander's soon and ask about the Death Stick.

She had a rather strong feeling that it was important.

XXX

Fred slipped out of the shop as soon as it closed.  It had seemed really important to Hermione to go speak with Ollivander, but they had been too busy to slip away earlier.

The February wind snaked through Diagon Alley and pulled at his robes as he walked down the street towards the wand shop.  He considered casting a warming charm on his robes, but then discarded the idea.  He wouldn’t be outside for long.  Besides, George was still safely back in their warm shop, balancing the register.  His warmth would help Fred stay warm.

He felt George smile at this idea and Fred let out a low chuckle, causing the few other people on the street to look at him nervously.

Ollivander’s Wands was shut up tight, so he slipped down the alley next to it and climbed the rickety stairs to the flat above the shop, wincing as he held onto the cold iron handrail with his bare hand.

He should have brought gloves.

George winced and agreed, putting down the galleons he’d been counting and sticking his hand under his bum to warm it back up.

Fred wondered sometimes if their bodies were really as connected as they felt.  Or was it all in their mind?  If Fred died, would George die as well?  Would he feel like he had died?

George scowled and muttered something under his breath.

Fred let out another chuckle, much harsher this time and reached out to rap sharply on the door to the flat.

It took about a minute, but then the door opened to reveal an old man squinting up at Fred.

“Ah, Fred Weasley, thirteen inches, walnut with a unicorn hair core that is the brother to the core of George Weasley’s wand.  Although,” His eyes grew distant for a moment as he thought back, “the cores are the same, and the wood is the same, the wood comes from two different walnut trees.  Most curious.  Now, what may I do for you?”

Fred had only run across Mr. Ollivander a few times since they had received their wands, but each time he found it unsettling how the wizard had been able to distinguish him from George.  

George did as well.

It was different with people like Hermione or Luna.  They had known each other for years.  They were also observant enough to pick up on the few subtle differences.

“Mr. Weasley?”  Ollivander prompted.

Fred gave himself a mental shake, hearing George laugh as he returned to counting galleons.  “Oh, yes, sorry.  May I come in?  This may take a moment.”

Ollivander’s eyes narrowed a bit and his hand tightened in the door handle, “Let me see your wand.”

Feeling a bit confused, Fred reached into his robes slowly and pulled out his wand.  Being sure to not point it at the older man.

Immediately upon viewing it Ollivander took a step back and gestured for Fred to answer.

Fred’s confusion was mirrored by George, who had stopped counting to focus in on what Fred was doing.

The flat was filled with antique furnishings that looked to be on the verge of falling apart.  

Rather like the Burrow.  

Fred instantly felt comfortable even as George grew wary.  Fred thought it was a bit paranoid, but he supposed he shouldn’t feel so immediately comfortable.  

It was a bit odd.

Just like Ollivander as he settled into a faded blue wingback chair.

Fred didn’t even think as he took a seat on a lavender settee.  It just seemed like the natural thing to do.

“Well?  I must admit that my curiosity is piqued,” Ollivander said, settling into his chair and picking up a tumbler half full of an amber liquid.  The ice cubes clinked against the glass as Fred and George thought of the best way to phrase things.

“Well...I’m not actually here for myself.  Or for George.  I’m here about-”

“Harry Potter’s wand,” Ollivander said knowingly before taking a small sip of his drink.

Fred nodded, “Yes, that’s part of it.”

Ollivander studied him for a moment over the rim of his glass.  Studying him.

It felt like Ollivander didn’t just see Fred.  Or even a Weasley twin.  No, he saw the two of them.  Separate and yet together.  Individuals, but ones so greatly linked they sometimes forgot that the weren’t the same.

It was spooky.

George - of course - agreed with Fred.

“No, I can see that.  This is not merely about the twin wands.” Ollivander pursed his lips and looked down at the glass in his hand.  “Someone has found more.  You want information.  Things that cannot be found in a book.”

Fred nodded and leaned forward “Yes, we want to know what you can tell us about the Death Stick.”

Ollivander froze, his glass now halfway to his lips, the ice slipped and clattered against the glass.  For a single instant the room was silent.  All Fred could hear was the clink of coins as George played nervously with a few sickles.

Ollivander took a deep breath and lowered his glass.  “Why?”

George grew still and Fred scooted to the edge of the settee.  “Because we fear that You-Know-Who will seek if out.  That he will want it to defeat Harry Potter.”

The glass dropped from Ollivander's hand, shattering on the floor.  Fred jumped up and felt George do the same.  

But Ollivander did not leave his chair.  Instead his eyes grew wide and he whispered, “Gregorovitch.”

Fred frowned, but before he could ask the question, George was telling him the answer.  Trust George to know something like this.

“He has the wand?”

Ollivander took a steadying breath and stood up, suddenly looking very old and feeble.  Fred watched, feeling helpless as the man tottered over to a heavy mahogany desk and pulled out parchment.  His quill was dipped into ink and he held it over the parchment for a heartbeat, his hand shaking.  A drop of ink slipped off the quill and dropped onto the parchment.

Ollivander stared at it, his hand beginning to shake more.  He grimaced and threw the quill away in disgust.

“Mr. Ollivander?  Can I help you?”

“He’s going to come for me.  Because of what I know.”

“Mr. Ollivander, who do you mean?  Gregorovitch?  Why-?”

“No, not him.  You-Know-Who.  He will be in search of a wand.  I am a wandmaker.  And not just any wandmaker.  But the wandmaker that gave the boy he sees as a nemesis the one wand that shares a core with his own.  I should have seen this coming.”

Ollivander took a deep breath, and then pulled out his wand.  As Fred watched the older man packed a frayed carpetbag, looked around his small flat once more and them focused his now steady, piercing gaze on Fred.

“Take me to your Order.  Then I must write Gregorovitch a letter.  For when You-Know-Who finds me gone he will seek out the only wandmaker to ever truly rival me.”

Fred didn’t quite understand what this was about- and neither did George - but both of them could feel the urgency behind each one of the older man’s words.

“I’ll have to take you by floo. We need to travel together as you don’t have access.”

Almost instantly Ollivander started strode over to the mantle and took down a small pot on the mantle.  “That’s doable.”

Fred nodded and moved to the fire.  He wrapped his arm around the older man’s suddenly frail shoulders and tossed some powder in.  The flames changed color and they stepped in.

As he clearly said, “Marauders’ Academy,” he felt George doing the exact same thing.

This likely wasn’t what Hermione had planned for them to do, but Fred and George had a feeling it was exactly what she wanted.

And if Fred and George knew anything about Hermione, it was that she always got what she wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy smokes, it's been an entire year now since I first posted this story. Where has the time gone?
> 
> So, the Hallows have come out to play, sort of. And Ollivander is now safe from Voldemort.
> 
> In other news, this will be my last time posting this from Korea. Next Saturday I'll be back in the States! O_O
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	56. A Real Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco have an 'official' date in Hogsmeade. The Minister makes a speech.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks, as always, to my betas :)
> 
> Should be back to responding to reviews and giving out cookies this week. Currently on my shitty laptop as my desktop is being shipped by a friend. But it can handle google chrome fairly well, so I just need to find time.

Hermione’s fake galleon gave a light buzz in her robe pocket as she was walking down to breakfast.  

No one else was with her as Ron was conducting an early morning quidditch practice and Neville was still sleeping down in the Slytherin Common Room.

The twins had sent her a message last night saying they had collected Ollivander and that he was being very quiet on the topic of the Death Stick, though he said there was a very old rumor that the continental wandmaker, Gregorovitch, had once been in possession of the wand.  Fleur, Bill, Alianore and Tachiki had proceeded to take a quick trip to the continent in order to locate the retired Gregorovitch.  

It had been Narcissa's idea to send them, as all of them had family on the continent, which would hopefully stop any of Voldemort’s spies from watching their movements too closely.

The twins had also finally shared how they had linked the coins to the journals - making them very similar to a muggle pager they had heard about on a research expedition into muggle London.

It had been Hermione’s idea, years ago, to look to muggles for inspiration.  Like with the lightning stick, the buzzing coin was proving very useful.

Hermione walked casually into the nearest girls’ bathroom and slipped into a stall.  A quick spell transfigured the toilet seat into a real seat and she sat down to pull out her journal.

_ Forge _ _: Phoenix your a bloody psychic.  death mark found over ollivanders shop_

_ Gred _ _: news isnt out yet but kingsley told us. place was ransacked and they tried to burn it_

_ Forge _ _: but olli had strong fireproof wards. place is just singed._

_ Gred _ _: no one knows olli wasnt there.  they think he was kidnapped_

Hermione’s heart was pounding in her chest as she read the twins’ words.  If she hadn’t had the epiphany yesterday…

_ Phoenix _ _: what about Gregorovitch?  any news?_

_ Gred _ _: no nothing yet_

_ Forge _ _: buzz u when we hear something_

The page grew blank a moment later as they wiped it of words.

If Draco hadn’t said anything about wands…

Her hands were shaking a bit as she closed the journal and slipped it back into her bag.  The harsh bathroom light illuminated the words on the back of her hand.

_I must respect authority._

Authority.

Who truly had authority?

Narcissa said she and Padfoot could control Scrimgeour, that they could deal with him later.

That meant, currently, the Order controlled the legal authority of the country.  But they also were still working underground.  

Hiding Ollivander - both from the Ministry and the Death Eaters.

They couldn’t trust the Ministry.  They couldn’t respect them.  Not with the way things were.

She couldn’t relax.  She couldn’t grow complacent.  Umbridge being gone from Hogwarts and dead was not the true end goal.

No.

She wanted to make a world where one COULD respect authority.

And to do that she needed to finish her school years, help destroy Voldemort, eliminate people like Bellatrix, and-

_And go on a date with me to Hogsmeade on Saturday._

She yelped and jumped so high she slipped off the seat and onto the bathroom floor.

_Draco!  What the-!_

_You were thinking especially loudly.  I wasn’t eavesdropping.  They are wonderful plans by the way, but if you don’t stop planning in the loo and get to the Great Hall you’ll miss out on breakfast_.

She rolled her eyes and got up off the bathroom floor, adjusting her robes.

_Just because we’re...whatever doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do._

He snickered, the sound echoing through her head and sending warm tingles over her skin.

_I did not tell you what to do.  I know better.  I merely told you what would be the result of your current path._

She made a face as she transfigured the toilet seat back to normal and shouldered her bag.

_You’re a Slytherin.  Of course you didn’t come right out and tell me what to do._

He snickered again.

_Point.  Now, are you going to respond to my date offer?_

She froze in the middle of unlatching the stall door as his first words to her came back.

A date.

A real date.

Her stomach grew all fluttery and she felt her cheeks grew warm.

_But...there’s so much to do.  I mean, we don’t really have-_

_Griffonshit.  The world won’t fall apart if we take a couple hours to ourselves.  Besides, we’ll have the coins if anyone needs us.  Not to mention our bags and the journals._

She began moving again, a smile splitting her features.  

_Alright.  I’ll see you in the Entrance Hall at ten then.  On Saturday._

_Good._

She realized as she left the bathroom that her shaking had stopped and she was feeling much better.  True, it had been a stroke of good luck that they had pulled Ollivander out at the right moment, but they had done it.  They had saved at least one person from Voldemort and there were Order members attempting to save another.  There was no point in worrying about what could have been.

It served no purpose.

With that thought in mind she continued on her way down to breakfast.

XXX

Hermione found out late on Friday that the Order expedition to the continent had failed to find Gregorovitch.

_ Forge _ _: old no nose got him first. that or he’s on the run_

_ Gred _ _: his house was nothing but ashes. neighbors swear they saw nothing_

_ King _ _: sounds fishy to me_

_ Phoenix _ _: I agree.  neighbors may know something._

_ Prongslet _ _: we can't force them to talk_

_ Moon _ _: I could force them._

_ Snake _ _: I could as well_

_ King _ _: you two are bloody scary_

_ Ginger _ _: and the rest of us arent?_

_ King _ _: ALL girls are scary_

_ Moon _ _: Aw!  I love you, too!_

_ Forge _ _: oh jeez…_

_ Grass _ _: I don’t think force is the way to go…_

_ Dragon _ _: Especially as we are not anywhere near Gregorovitch’s house.  Or even know where that house is._

_ Phoenix _ _: Point.  We need to figure out if Gregorovitch still had the wand._

_ King _ _: not likely_

_ Prongslet _ _: why?_

_ Moon _ _: I checked with my daddy about the wand.  He says according to old Quibbler issues Gregorovitch stopped bragging about the wand back sometime in the 20s.  The Quibbler ran issues on it up until the late 30s, though.  Standard practice._

_ King _ _: so someone must have taken it from him before that_

_ Dragon _ _: But that makes no sense.  They didn’t kill him._

_ Phoenix _ _:  You don’t have to kill someone to take control of a wand.  Just defeating them is good enough.  As long as it’s a real conflict and not just training._

_ Phoenix _ _: Huh, so the real question is - who stole the wand?  And does Gregorovitch know the identity._

_ Snake _ _: Could it have been the last great dark wizard?  Grindelwald?_

_ Gred _ _: he never bragged about it.  least as far as we know._

_ Moon _ _: I can ask my daddy.  But I think we only ever talked about Grindelwald’s obscurus son and his penchant for pretending to be an American._

_ Phoenix _ _: I don’t think he really had an obscurus son…_

_ Moon _ _: Of course he did.  Rolf’s grandfather saw it._

_ Ginger _ _: Rolf?_

_ King _ _: Rolf Scamander.  Grandson of Newt Scamander and Eoghan Mclean, the owner/editor of the Fae Chronicles._

_ Dragon _ _: Aren’t you just a font of knowledge today?  Who would have thought?_

Ron retorted by scribbling a little face sticking its tongue out at Draco.  Not to mention the actual face he made at Draco, who was sitting across the table from him.

Draco just snickered, “Weasley's are apparently full of surprises.”

That earned him a solid elbow in his side from Ginny.  Hermione winced along with Draco - Ginny’s elbows should be classified as weapons.

“Yes, we are.  Now play nice with my brother.  Only a Weasley is allowed to hurt a Weasley.”

“Noted,” Draco said as he rubbed his ribs and grimaced.

_ Apple _ _: Blaise wants to know who else is going into Hogsmeade tomorrow._

_ Phoenix _ _: I think we all are._

She looked around her classroom and everyone nodded.  Theo, Neville, and Pansy were all down in the Slytherin common room, but everyone else was there.  Minus the twins of course.  They were at the Marauder's Academy.

_ Grass _ _: I think we should all go in together and make sure no one is ever alone.  Keep your coins in your pockets._

_ Snake _ _: And then meetup before we head back.  I doubt anyone will attack Hogsmeade tomorrow, but with the recent upheaval at the Ministry…._

_ King _ _: point.  better to be safe than sorry_

_ Prongslet _ _: point.  we should also keep an eye out for the other students._

_ Phoenix _ _: So lets all meet in the Entrance Hall at ten?  We should head back before dark, so by three._

_ Ginger _ _: then lets meet at nine, since thats the earliest we can go._

_ Dragon _ _: nine is good_

_ Grass _ _: works for me_

_ Snake _ _: good, I don’t want to be out after dark_

_ Apple _ _: none of us do_

_ King _ _: dont forget to put your coin in your pocket_

_ Phoenix _ _: or bring your bag and journal - just in case_

_ Moon _ _: And watch out for snoffkurns.  They flourish during times of upheaval._

The journal sat empty for a moment.  It had been so long since Luna had brought up her imaginary creatures that they were all at a loss.  Well, most of them.

_ Prongslet _ _: can do.  keep an eye out for snoffkurns.  got it guys?_

_ Gred _ _: Moon, you’re awesome, please_

_ Forge _ _: come work for us when you finish_

_ Gred _ _: your schooling_

_ Moon _ _: No, thank you.  Daddy needs my help_

_ Forge _ _: well…_

_ Gred _ _: if you change your mind…_

_ Forge _ _: then let us know_

Luna smiled brightly as she looked down at her journal and proceeded to draw an adorably happy picture of a moon.

Ron chuckled and sent his girlfriend the most heartwarming smile.  “Luna, you’re amazing.  Love you.”

In response Luna hopped out of her seat and placed herself in Ron’s lap, giving him a quick peck.

“Love you, too.”

Ginny groaned, “Oh Merlin.  Get a room you two, like the rest of us do.”

That comment made Harry blush redder than a tomato and cough nervously.

Hermione turned and met Draco’s eyes, he smirked at her.

_Is it just me, or is everyone being much more open about their relationships now that we’re together?_

Her brow wrinkled in thought and she glanced around.  Luna was still perched on Ron’s lap, now nuzzling his neck, even as his face became the same shade of red as his hair.  Ginny was giving Harry suggestive looks and giggling every time his blush deepened.

The soft brush of fingers against her cheek made her turn back towards Draco as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

She smiled at him as she got a warm, fuzzy feeling in ther chest.

_Yes, I think you’re right.  I mean, they’ve all kind of been together since around our fourth year, but I only ever saw them acting like couples by accident.  Like walking in on Harry and Ginny in a broom cupboard once._

Draco snickered.

_That must have been an unwanted sight._

_Definitely._

A flicker of movement caught her eye and she looked down to see Pansy writing in the journal.

_ Snake _ _: Anything new on Scrimgeour and the Ministry?_

_ Apple _ _:  Yes, the papers have been rather uninformative_

_ Gred _ _: yesterday, at our Order meeting, it was said that_

_ Forge _ _: the Ministry will finally make a statement about what happened at Malfoy Manor._

_ Phoenix _ _: when?_

_ Gred _ _: the dragon queen said it would be in the next few days_

_ Forge _ _: hopefully by Monday_

_ Dragon _ _: good_

_ Ginger _ _: nice nickname for her_

_ Forge _ _: our mother is the red hen_

_ Fred _ _: which makes father the red c***_

Each letter turned into a star as quickly as it appeared.  

_ Forge _ _: c***_

_ Gred _ _: what the…_

Hermione grinned.

_ Phoenix _ _: Oh, did I forget to tell you about the profanity filter?_

Ron, Ginny and Harry laughed, while Draco snickered.  Luna merely smiled peacefully.

_ Gred _ _: Forge, we have a new mission_

_ Forge _ _: indeed we do, brother_

_ Snake _ _: Merlin save us from Weasleys…_

_ Phoenix _ _: Well, if that’s all.  I have an essay to write._

_ Apple _ _: see everyone in the entrance hall at 9am_

_ Gred _ _: Forge or I may take a little trip to hogsmeade tmrw.  you know,”_

_ Forge _ _: gotta check out our competition_

_ King _ _: sounds good, night_

Everyone else quickly wrote goodnight, with the twins adding an image of a rooster with a very not anatomically correct appendage.  

Hermione scowled, she still hadn’t figured out a way to censor drawings.  She hadn’t forgotten about what the twins had drawn over Christmas.

Revenge was necessary.  No matter the size of the infraction.  Or the time it took to achieve said revenge.

XXX

Saturday was bright and sunny, with just a hint of spring in the cool breeze coming up from the south.  Lavender and Parvati giggled and gossiped as they dressed for the day.  Their high spirits were contagious.

Hermione couldn’t help but feel excited about her first official date with Draco.

It was easy enough to wash up, but when she went to her wardrobe she couldn’t help but stare at her robes in dismay.

How had she never realized that all of her day robes were more fitting to a funeral than a date?

Likely because it hadn’t been that important to her when she had dated Viktor.  He had never worried about his clothes, so she hadn’t either.

But Draco was different.

She’d watched him spend hours lovingly replacing each article of clothing that she had accidently destroyed.

She couldn’t wear a plain black robe with no adornments at all.  Even if they were made of silk.

She groaned, wishing she’d asked Mrs. Weasley how to alter clothes properly.  She could easily transfigure some things and add a bit of lace or-

“Hermione, are you alright?  Don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so long at your clothes before.”

Hermione jumped and spun around, her nightgown swirling around her ankles and threatening to reveal the scars on her legs.

“Oh, uh, just trying to decide what to wear.  I-um,” she felt her cheeks heat, “have a date today.”

A dangerous light appeared in Lavender’s eyes.  “A date?  With Malfoy?”

Hermione nodded and, before she could say a word the other girl was beside her and digging through the wardrobe.  

“Hm, you certainly like black, don’t you?  I mean, it fits your name, but there is such a thing as taking something too far.  You don’t own any muggle clothes, do you?”

“I do, but none of them are at Hogwarts.  Didn’t see a need and I used the trunk space for other things.”

“Hm, well, I have an idea.”

Lavender went over to her own wardrobe and dug through it.  A moment later she came back with a pair of dark jeans and a soft hunter green jumper.

“I’m sure you don’t want to get all fancy.  So these should work well.  Just do something nice with your hair and wear something sparkly.”

Hermione stared at the offered clothes.  “Lavender, thank you, but-”

“Oh, shush, Hermione.  You should know by now that Lavvie is stubborn.  If you don’t take them she’ll likely hound you all day,” Pavarti said as she came out of their shared bathroom.

“But-” Hermione started before going silent.  Her roommates annoyed her to no end, but she also knew they were nice people.  And it was already half past eight.  She didn’t have all day to go over her wardrobe choices.  She sighed, “Alright.  Thank you, Lavender.  These will work well once I adjust the size.”

Luckily, temporary sizing charms were easy because Hermione was not quite as voluptuous as either of her roommates.

“Good, that’s settled then,” Lavender said as Hermione took the clothes and disappeared into the bathroom to change.

XXX

Draco glanced up at the sound of Theo’s surprised intake.

His heart stopped for a split second.

Hermione had never looked so beautiful.  And that was saying a lot, as he still remembered exactly how she had looked at the Yule Ball.

She was dressed in formfitting muggle clothes, while her dark hair was tucked up in some elegant twist that he vaguely remembered seeing his mother use at times.

But it was her face that truly drew him.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Hermione look shy or unsure before.

_You look gorgeous._

Her face grew pink as she approached him.

_You like it?  They’re Lavender Brown’s.  I wasn’t sure what to wear._

“You’re magnificent.  As always,” he said aloud.

She smiled, her whole face lighting up.  “Thank you.  You look very good yourself.”

“Oh!  Good!  You’re the last one to arrive Hermione.  Let’s go.  I’m ready to get outside.  It’s gorgeous today,” Ginger said as she grabbed Harry’s hand and began leading him outside.

Draco watched in amusement as everyone else followed her. Gryffindors were always entertaining.  They didn’t ask or conspire for others to follow them.  No.  They just stated their purpose and took off, absolutely sure that enough people would follow them.

One Gryffindor in particular did that quite a bit.  Not that he was complaining.

With that thought in mind and a smile on his face he offered Hermione his arm.

She took it and they headed out.  

XXX

The day was absolutely perfect; though Hermione didn't think she could actually remember clearly everything that they did.  The entire day was a haze of happy feelings and flashes of memory.  Draco’s arm interlinked with hers.  The warm sun on her face.  Hot tea and warm pastries in a little bakery.  The smell of old books mixed with Draco’s soap.  The pressure of books against her spine in the little old bookstore.  The sweetness of Draco’s lips against hers.  The strength of his arms around her.  The sound of everyone's laughter when Luna asked about the small mark on Draco’s neck.  

The rest of the world was forgotten for a few hours and Hermione didn’t even notice.

Not until someone shouted out, “Special Announcement!” In the Three Broomsticks and shushed the students enough for everyone to hear the wizarding wireless.

It was Scrimgeour’s gravelly voice that rolled over the last few people talking.  His tone left no one with any possibility of disbelieving him.  

“Wizards and Witches of Great Britain, I speak to you tonight on a topic of grave seriousness.  Do not think I come to you lightly.  We here at the Ministry have confirmed what I am about to tell you through multiple means.  You-Know-Who, known to many as Lord Voldemort, returned from the dead last May through the use of a dark ritual.  It was he who organized the Azkaban prison break this past Autumn.  It is also He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named - not Albus Dumbledore - behind the Battle of Malfoy Manor.  He is still at large and believed to be hiding on the continent.”

The entire pub was silent, everyone hanging on his words.  Even those that already knew what he was saying.

“The previous administration did their best to ignore these facts.  Facts they were unwilling to accept.  I believe that we must stand together and face the truth - no matter how unwanted those truths may be.  It is to this end that I ask the wizarding population of Great Britain to stand together in these turbulent times.  Report any knowledge you may have on You-Know-Who and his followers.  Be ready to stand shoulder to shoulder with your neighbors and protect our world.  As a sign of this we, the Ministry, will be releasing the bodies of those lost in the Battle of Malfoy Manor.  We pray that these will be the only lives lost in the coming fight, but we know that this is a futile hope.  For You-Know-Who is deadly and unforgiving.  But that is why we must work together to stop him once and for all.  We MUST make our world truly safe.  We cannot allow the mistakes of our predecessors to destroy our chance for a safe future.  Thank you for tuning in.  Stay safe and have a good night.  Minister Scrimgeour signing off.”

The pub sat in silence for a moment, students holding onto their butterbeers and looking at each other.  Many in shock at hearing the Minister say a name they had often never heard said before.  The few adults were white-faced and nauseous looking.  Hermione wanted to yell and cheer that the new Minister had finally admitted everything.  

“My father…”

Her attention was drawn to Draco, pressed against her side at the cramped table they were sharing with the others.  

She took his hand and gave it a light squeeze.

_Are you alright?_

He nodded slowly.

_I-I think so.  I’d given up hope we’d be able to have a funeral for him.  What with Fudge, Umbridge, and the Ministry.  Didn’t even consider that the change in administration would change this._

_There will be lots of funerals._

_Including Dumbledore's._

“Draco?  You alright?”  

Pansy’s question drew Draco’s attention away from Hermione, but he still kept a hold on her hand.

“Yes, no, maybe, just, well, in shock.  That’s all.”

Pansy nodded and gave him a pat on the shoulder.  “Of course you are.  You loved your father dearly.”

He nodded and swallowed noisily.  Hermione didn’t really think about it.  She stood up, pulling him along with her and went outside.  

The sun was beginning to set and the air was crisp.  She pulled him off to one side, outside of the view of the windows and wrapped her arms around him.  A second later his body began to shake with small, soft sobs.  She held him, running her hands in small comforting circles on his back, his grip on her tight.

Slowly his sobs disappeared and his hold relaxed.  She pulled back and looked up at him.

“Draco?”

“Sorry.  I-well-I don’t know.  It just hit me.  You know.  Everything.  I-” he stopped and took a deep breath.

“It’s alright.  I understand.  Most of the days you’re fine and then one thing happens and you’re a mess again.  I-uh-get that way sometimes.  About, well…” She stopped talking and gestured at her arms.  

He responded by pulling her close and hugging her again.  This time he wasn’t holding her tightly for comfort.  She felt his hands moving over her and heat began to pool in her stomach.

The next thing she knew he had pulled back and she was looking at him.  There was so much open emotion visible on his face.  Her heart swelled up and she felt a million emotional words rise up in her throat.  

She did the only thing she could do to stop words from rising up and coming out - words she wasn’t ready to say yet.

He didn’t protest when her lips met his.  

But Harry did.

“Oh, Merlin!  I don’t need to see this!”

Hermione pulled away from Draco and looked over to see Harry, Ginny, and everyone else piling out of the Three Broomsticks.

She sniffed, “Now we’re even.  I didn’t need to see you and Ginny in that broom cupboard either.”

Harry flushed and looked away.  “At least we were in private,” he grumbled.

Draco chuckled and stepped away from Hermione and offering her his arm once more.  “Point.”

Hermione turned her glare on Draco, “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Draco winked at her, “Point.  Why do you think I’m not?”

“I call cheating!” Ron shouted, walking up with Luna tucked under his arm.

“I think the nargles are behind it,” Luna said.

Pansy laughed. “Or maybe it’s a conspiracy.”

“A nargle conspiracy,” Ginny said.  “That has to be it!”

Everyone laughed and began walking back towards Hogwarts as the sun continued to set.  Hermione watched them for a moment, the happy moment at odds with the seriousness that had been going on inside of the pub.

“Hermione?”

Draco’s voice brought her back.  She took his arm and looked up at him as they began to follow the others.  “Feeling better now?”

He nodded, “Yes, but I do have a suggestion.”

“What’s that?”

“I think finding some privacy is a good idea.”

Her heart skipped a beat and her cheeks began to burn.  That didn’t stop her from quietly saying, “Point.”

His laughter rang through the wizarding village and hers quickly followed.

It was nice not to be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the first time since I started this story I'm actually publishing it on Saturday morning EST, rather than on Saturday night UTC. Very odd feeling. Hope ya'll liked this, especially the wizarding 'texting' and the radio broadcast. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	57. Couple of Pairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Marauders spend time with their significant others. Except for Fred and George, they go play with the Order of the Phoenix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lovely betas!

Hermione moaned as Draco’s tongue flicked across her neck. Her fingers twisted in his robes and pulled their bodies closer together. He responded by rubbing his hips against hers as his hands tangled themselves in the bottom of her school blouse, ensuring that she didn’t pull away. His thumb slipped and brushed against her skin. She tensed but didn’t pull back.

She trusted him not to do anything she didn’t want to do. He understood her limits.

Time slipped away again after that. Nothing existed but his lean frame against her. By the time they pulled apart their robes were in disarray and both of them were panting heavily.

He smiled down at her. “I missed you.”

She felt embarrassed and looked away. “We were only apart for one class. And we’re always connected by the chain.”

“Point. But you don’t let me chat with you when we’re in class. And I can’t do this either.” He reached out and pulled her back against him as his mouth swooped to capture hers. She didn’t protest. Her hands slipped under his shirt, moving across the smooth skin there. He groaned when one of her fingers slipped below the top of his pants.

Just an inch.

But it was an inch she’d never before explored.

And they’d done a lot of exploration over the past few weeks.

Things were quiet in Hogwarts. Mcgonagall was running the school, with the approval of the Ministry. Narcissa had rejoined Aunt Andy for their optional Magical Etiquette Seminars at Hogwarts. The Marauder's Academy had seen a huge upsurge in applicants, especially for their basic defense classes offered on the weekends. Hermione had written a few short articles, but nothing too important. She’d even kept using the pen name. Much as she hadn’t liked it at first, something about it had felt truly right.

Draco found that hilarious, though he’d smartly tried to hold his laughter in around her.

Scrimgeour was still running the Ministry with the full support of the Magical population of Great Britain. Funerals for all of those lost in the Battle of Malfoy Manor had been scheduled.

Narcissa had collected her husband’s body, but was waiting to hold the funeral until Draco could attend.

No students were leaving Hogwarts for the funerals. Scrimgeour claimed it was too much of a security risk and the Order members seemed to agree as none of them had protested.

Harry had been upset by that, as he wanted to attend Dumbledore’s funeral in Godric’s Hollow.

Hermione could understand, but she also thought keeping Harry safely at Hogwarts was the best decision. The more she thought on it, the more sure she was that Voldemort had been behind charging all of the aurors with treason. Fudge was an idiot, but not that much of an idiot.

Her attention was abruptly brought back to Draco when she suddenly found herself lifted and sat on one of the desks. She gasped and tightened her hands on his hips.

“What-”

His mouth cut off her words and she mentally shrugged, allowing herself to be lost once more in his embrace.

Yes, things were going well, leaving them lots of time for exploration.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in tighter, moaning as his hands tangled themselves in her hair.

Might as well take advantage of it.

XXX

Luna held up the latest copy of the Quibbler and turned it upside down, frowning in annoyance.

“What’s wrong?”

She grimaced as she answered Ron, “Father changed the paper. It doesn’t feel right.”

Ron frowned and held out his hand, she handed him the magazine and cuddled closer to him on the couch.

They were currently the only two people in the Shifting Room. She wasn’t quite sure where everyone else was, but she knew they’d turn up. They always did.

“Huh. You’re right. The paper is much better. Feels nice, but doesn’t really fit the Quibbler, does it?”

She wrinkled her nose and took the magazine back, tossing it back in her bag. “Daddy should know better. I’ll write him a letter.” She started to pull away, aiming for the table and chair that had just appeared nearby.

Ron’s large, calloused hands caught her own and pulled her back so that she tumbled on top of him.

The couch was now much bigger and fluffier, almost a bed.

“Later,” he whispered huskily in her ear before giving it a little nibble.

She giggled, “Want something?”

He gave a mock growl in her neck and moved his hands down to grip her waist, helping her settle on top of him. “What do you think?”

She giggled again, “I think...yes!”

Her lips captured his and the Quibbler was promptly forgotten. They were alone for once, might as well take advantage.

XXX

Pansy sighed and snuggled closer to Neville, tucking her arms against his chest. His own broad arms were wrapped around her, pulling her close, making her feel safe.

“I love you.”

She felt him smile against her ear before he gave her temple a small kiss. “I love you, too.”

Pansy nuzzled her face against his neck, the warm glow of the light shining above them warming her face.

She was safe. She was loved. She was happy.

XXX

Theo climbed onto the bed and laid on his side, hiding the silver hand. He didn’t even think about it now, it just felt better to hide it.

Blaise came out of the bathroom, toweling his dark hair. He looked over at Theo and sighed, rolling his eyes.

The towel was tossed into the basket and then Theo was flat on his back, Blaise leaning over him with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t hide this.” He took Theo’s silver hand and raised it up to his lips, giving it a small kiss. “I love everything about you.”

Theo flushed. Rather than respond he picked up his wand and closed the curtains, throwing up a silencing charm as well.

Then he moved his silver hand around and took hold of Blaise’s neck, pulling him down so that they could kiss.

Blaise chuckled, his warm breath brushing across Theo’s lips, “Avoiding the issue? I’ll let it go, for now.” He closed the small distance and let their lips touch.

Theo returned the kiss, forgetting, if only for a few minutes, that he was not only without a hand, but without a family.

XXX

Ginny leaned down over her broom, urging it to go faster. She could see the snitch glittering in the early morning sun.

Just as she could see Harry beside her, racing for the same goal. His arm was outstretched and he had a longer reach, but she was smaller.

Less air resistance.

Her heart was hammering in her chest. She’d never come so close to beating him before.

Never.

Air whooshed past her ears, blocking out all sounds.

“Come on!” she hissed.

Her fingers strained, pulling at her arms, yanking on her shoulder.

Almost…THERE!

Her small fingers closed around the gold ball and her heart lurched into her throat.

She’d done it!

She pulled back, slowing and landing nimbly on her feet.

Harry was a second behind her, a rueful smile on his face and his green eyes glittering like emeralds.

“Congrat-”

Her lips cut him off as she threw herself into his arms.

They went tumbling down onto the grassy pitch. He let out a loud, “Oomph!” as she landed on top of him, but didn’t break the kiss.

She’d proposed this challenge as a way to distract Harry from the fact he was missing Dumbledore’s funeral. And she was so glad she did.

Harry seemed pretty glad as well.

XXX

Fred frowned and looked at the clock. They’d need to leave soon. It was killer to close the shop early on a Saturday, but luckily March was a slow month for them. None of the three European schools were on Easter break yet.

“Ready, Freddie?” George asked.

Fred made a face at George. There was no need for them to speak when they were alone, and George knew that.

George laughed, his amusement rolling over Fred.

Of course George knew he didn’t have to actually speak. He also knew speaking would annoy Fred.

“I swear. How are we related?” Fred asked.

George laughed harder, grabbing onto the shop counter to keep from hitting the floor.

“You’re a real hoot. You know that, right?”

“Haha, very funny. Go get your cloak. Funeral starts in a half hour.”

That sobered George up and he grimaced.

An image of Albus Dumbledore falling before Voldemort flashed between them. It was still unbelievable. The greatest wizard of their age, taken down by a snake. Life wasn’t fair.

George snagged their winter cloaks from the back room, tossing Fred’s in his face. Fred let out a strangled shout and dragged the woolen fabric off his head, making a face at George as he slipped it over his shoulders. They left their shop and locked up, seeing many of the other shops had done the same.

No one was going to miss Albus Dumbledore’s funeral - not if they could help it.

Fred grabbed onto George and apparated them both to the edge of Godric’s Hollow. It wasn’t where most of the wizards and witches were apparating in. Rather, it was a spot recommended by Padfoot for the Order to arrive and gather at. None of them really thought that Voldemort would be insane enough to attack the most well guarded funeral in recent magical history, but it was better to be safe.

“Ah, there you two are. You’re late,” Moody said gruffly as they popped in.

Fred scowled, “We had a shop to close. Some of us work for a living.”

“Hmph, don’t get grumpy with me! I worked for my living!”

Fred started to retort, but George grabbed his arm and dragged him over to where Padfoot and Moony were standing, looking out over the small wizarding graveyard - and the large crowd quickly gathering in it.

“We’re going to need to spread out and cover the edges. If we’re attacked this is going to be a bloodbath,” Padfoot said, scowling.

“Alianore, Dora, and Alice have taken the most promising students, plus a few of the Order members over to the other side. We’re fairly well covered unless he has people spread throughout the crowd,” Moony said.

“I don’t like it. Tried to convince Cissy and Rufus that holding such an open funeral was a mistake. We just don’t have enough intel.”

Fred studied the older man. He and George had always looked up to Sirius. Seeing him act so serious and adult one moment - just like their father - and yet so immature and childish another moment had been a real eye opener for them. Moony had also opened their eyes, just in different ways. He’d tempered the cruelty they’d always practiced so easily.

There’d been something different about the two older men. Something Fred and George had been unable to fully understand until their second year at Hogwarts, when they’d found the Marauder's Map.

Then it had all been so clear.

So, so clear.

Cut a quartet in half and you still had a pair.

They looked like night and day, as far from being twins as any two beings could be, and yet they’d moved almost as one at times.

Now they even had matching scars.

It gave Fred the willies, though George found it rather intriguing.

“Where do you want us?” George asked, cutting into the older men’s conversation.

“Over there,” Moony pointed, “on the Northern side of the cemetery. Stay alert and keep your eyes and ears open. Something feels wrong. Mamoru Tachiki is already over there.”

The twins nodded and moved as one around the gathering crowd. They caught sight of a few rocks with runes carved on them, ones they had seen on the perimeter of the Quidditch World Cup. They were likely to stop apparition and keep the muggles away.

Fred reached into his pocket and fiddled idly with the fake galleon there. He knew the other New Marauders were safely inside Hogwarts. There was no point in contacting them if something went wrong, but the coin was still comforting.

George’s instant explanation of this feeling made sense.

Of course it was comforting. Fred and George had always been connected to each other. The coin gave them a connection to others. Including their two younger siblings.

Even if their worst nightmare occurred they wouldn’t truly be alone.

They reached the Northern side of the cemetery and found Mamoru leaning casually against a tree even as his dark eyes scanned the crowd. He nodded as they walked up.

“Good afternoon. George, stay with me. Fred, wander through the crowd. I trust your family magic works even when you are apart?”

Mamoru’s eyes flickered over to them looking for acknowledgment.

Fred nodded, “Yes, and how’d you know that-”

“-it was family magic?” George continued.

Mamoru rolled his eyes, “I have eyes. You two move almost as one at times. Not sure of the details, but has to be part of your family magic. Sprang up from the mixing of your parents’ magic.”

“Point,” the twins said together.

Stating something no one else had ever voiced was certainly worth double points.

“Thanks, now go mingle Fred. Keep your eyes open.”

Fred wrinkled his nose and headed into the crowd, leaving George behind. Everyone was wearing dark robes and there was a depressed atmosphere to the crowd. Everyone talking in whispers as they found places to stand since all of the seats were already taken.

Fred moved and scanned the crowd. George frowned in puzzlement. Fred turned to look at what George had seen.

What was Cornelius Fudge doing here? Wasn’t he on house arrest until the investigation finished?

And who was that on his arm? No one wore veils that heavy at a funeral anymore.

As Fred moved closer he saw the veiled head tilt towards Fudge, as if saying something. Fudge nodded woodenly and then reached into his robes.

Fear spiked through Fred’s veins. George shouted out. Fred began to push through the crowd, but he wasn’t fast enough. He drew his wand, but couldn’t get a clear angle. There were just too many people between him and Fudge still.

Fudge threw a massive handful of Peruvian Darkness Powder into the air as the figure on his arm tore off her veil.

Bellatrix Lestrange’s hand flashed and a wicked silver knife sliced Fudge’s throat even as wind caught the darkness powder and spread it around.

The entire cemetery descended into darkness and the screams started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't cliffhangers nice? ;)
> 
> So, yes, I am implying that Fudge was only being so stupid since he was under the Imperius. And the Death Eaters just used one of Fred and George's own products against the Order...
> 
> See you next week!


	58. Dumbledore's Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death Eaters attack Dumbledore's funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my lovely betas!

As darkness enveloped the world George and Fred dropped to their knees, reaching under their robes it took only a moment to locate the bags Hermione had given them.  Screams echoed around them as Fred felt a spell flash by over his head.  

Their fingers tore at the drawstrings, almost ripping fingernails off in their haste.  George could hear Mamoru cursing in rapid-fire Japanese as he cast what felt like shield charms.  

There!

They hadn’t had time to create goggles yet to let them see through the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, but that was alright.  They still had their Chilean Instant Lightness Powder - something that they DID NOT sell to the public.

As one the two of them tossed the powder into the sky, summoning a wind to spread it around.  Visibility returned just in time for the crowd of witches and wizards to see the most terrifying sight of all:

Lord Voldemort standing upon Albus Dumbledore’s tomb.  

For an instant the entire world froze in silence.  Surprise was evident upon the Dark Lord’s face.  His piercing eyes roved the crowd as they all looked at him.

And then he smiled.

“Kill them all.”

A small wave of his wand and the two dozen dark-robed figures in the crowd sprouted the terrifying Death Eater masks.  

Bellatrix laughed and spun, her wavy black hair swirling around in a manner that reminded Fred of Hermione.  Spells flew from her wand, Fred watched as a blonde witch’s clothes erupted into brilliant red flames, burning away until she was naked.  The witch screamed and turned to run, pushing through the crowd that was now seething like a wounded animal.  

Fred threw up a shield just in time to stop whatever nasty spell she cast at him.  George turned so that his back was to Mamoru’s.  The two of them clearing a path and hurrying the panicking wizards and witches outside of the apparition wards.  

Mamoru started screaming and dropped, twitching and jerking in pain as the Cruciatus rushed through him.  George spun and cast off a nasty blinding spell at the Death Eater.  

It didn’t just blind, it burned.

The Death Eater screamed and fell to his knees, dropping his wand and clawing at his eyes.

Mamoru stopped screaming and took a few deep breathes and George held his hand out towards his companion even as he cast a shield over them both.  Just in time to stop a rather nasty-looking orange curse.  

Fred yanked a tombstone out of the ground just in time to stop Bellatrix’s killing curse.

“Sorry bout that, Peverall.  Desperate times and all that,” he said to it, doffing an imaginary cap even as he blocked a second spell of some sort with the cracked stone.

George laughed as Fred sent the tombstone flying straight at Bellatrix’s middle.  The witch let out a loud, “Oomph!” and went flying backwards through the thinning crowd - falling somewhere near Dumbledore’s tomb.

Behind George was the sound of numerous people apparating out, running for their lives even as more aurors came pouring in.  The uniformed witches and wizards raced around George and Mamoru, barely sparing them a glance.

George tried to throw off a spell with each loud ‘Crack!’ but was hard pressed to do so.  There were just too many of them.

Fred pushed through the crowd, stepping over bodies he didn’t care to look down at.

“GO!  GET OUT OF HERE!  NOW!” he shouted at a group of old wizards huddling on the ground behind a cracked tomb, eyes squeezed shut in terror.  

“But-” one started to say, his white beard quivering in fear.

“The Weasley said to get, Artulus!  Now get!” Doge barked, coming around a large monument sporting an angel with one wing blasted off.

The little wizard was typically very calm and quiet, but Fred rather suspected he didn’t care much having his best friend’s funeral attacked.  He looked positively frightening right now.

Well, as frightening as a mouse could look.

The older wizards looked at Doge for a moment, then back at Fred before looking around at the almost empty graveyard.

The one that spoke before opened his mouth to reply, but was froze as a spell hit Doge full on the chest.  Blood spurted from huge, numerous cuts.  Fred stared in shock for a moment, his eyes meeting the older wizard’s as they grew dazed and vacant.  Then Doge crumpled to the ground, nothing more than a pile of bloody robes.

Fred had never before seen someone die that he knew.  

Doge had been coming into their shop every couple weeks since they had first opened.  Buying prank supplies for his grandchildren.  He’d always chuckled over how turnabout was fair play and that his daughter and son-in-law needed a little excitement in their lives.

A huge mental punch from George got Fred moving again just in time to turn and throw up a shield.  

“GO!!!” he screamed at the old men as he turned to face the new assailant.

He barely noticed the men fleeing for their lives.  This new Death Eater was fast, keeping Fred jumping around, dodging spells and chunks of tombstones.

George worked with Mamoru, doing their best to fight as one, but their different styles were getting in the way.  Their elbows bumped together and Mamoru cursed in Japanese as his spell went off course and stunned a fleeing bystander.

George’s curses were non-existent.  He didn’t have time.  His shield failed and his wand was too far out of position to re-raise it in time to stop whatever the nearest Death Eater had just shot at him.  

He didn’t have time to think.  He turned, grabbed Mamoru’s arm, and yanked the older wizard to the ground with him.  George felt his wand snap as it hit the dirt even as Mamoru did a weird twist and rolled off away.  Popping to his feet and eliminating the Death Eater that had been attacking George.

The one that had been dueling with Mamoru was now nothing but a pile of sliced meat - courtesy of the spell George had dodged.

“Merlin, that was close.”

Mamoru extended his hand down to help George up.  “We’re not done yet.”

“Fred is dueling with someone over there,” George pointed farther into the graveyard, to where a distant red-headed figure was weaving in and out among tombs.

“What is she doing?”

George turned to see where Mamoru was looking.

There, atop a weather-worn old monument stood Narcissa Malfoy, her shining silver shield visible in one arm, her wand raised in the other.

And she wasn’t alone.

Scrimgeour's tawny mane was visible next to her.  As George watched others ran up.  He could make out his parents, Padfoot, Moony, Tonks and Alianore.  

Nearby, was a gathering group of dark-clad figures.

Voldemort, surrounded by his Death Eaters.

Fred feinted to the left and then spun, casting behind his back and finally catching the bloody Death Eater by surprise.  

There was nothing classy about using a full body-bind, but as he’d said earlier - desperate times called for desperate measures.

He walked over to the fallen Death Eater, giving him a good kick in the side before casting a stunner straight at the chest.

“And stay down, next time I’ll kill you.”

Curiosity flooded over his link with George and Fred noticed the growing crowd nearby.

Fred moved closer to the crowd, his eyes skittering away from the bodies littering the ground, especially the form of Doge.

Voldemort was crouched atop Dumbledore's broken tomb.  He slowly stood up, wand in hand, and faced the Order of the Phoenix.

“Good afternoon, traitor.  Tell me, have you taken the old fool’s place?” he hissed.

“The only traitors here are wearing masks.  Now, are you ready to surrender and submit to justice?” Scrimgeour barked.

Mrs. Malfoy sighed and Fred could clearly see her annoyance at the Minister of Magic, well-hidden as it was.  He’d seen that look enough time on Hermione’s face.

The Minister was in trouble when this was all over.

Voldemort threw his head back and let out a horrible laugh.  “Justice?  Surrender?  I fear you, dear Minister, are as much of a fool as Fudge if you believe those words mean anything to me.  No, there will be no surrendering today.  Only death.”

“Yes, but whose death?” Mrs. Malfoy asked coldly.

“Why, yours, dear sister,” Bellatrix practically purred as she removed her mask and moved to stand in front of her lord, though well below him.

“I beg to differ.”

Fred hadn’t seen her, but Andromeda Tonks stood near her daughter.

“You!” Bellatrix hissed.  “I didn’t think you had the nerve to leave your little cottage!”

“Silly little, Bella.  You thought me gutless?  Do you truly think a coward would be capable of defying tradition and seeking their own path?  No, it is the cowards that never question what they are told.  It is the foolish that follow those that do not care about them.  All of us Blacks, even poor Regulus, learned to question and learn.  Well, all except one.”

Bellatrix sputtered, at a loss on how to reply to her older sister’s taunts.

Mrs. Malfoy let out a cold, little tinkle of laughter.  “I see, dear sister, that you are intelligent to see what your family thinks of you now.  To see how we disapprove of you.  Did you know Sirius disowned you?  That’s you’re no longer a member of the most Noble and Ancient House of Black?”

“NO!” Bellatrix screamed.  “He can’t do that!”

Padfoot let out a harsh bark of laughter, “But, dear cousin, I already did.”

Bellatrix screamed once more in rage and raised her wand, but her lord’s voice cut her off.  

“No.  Not yet.”

“Not yet?  Just what do you think will change?” Scrimgeour growled.

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed and he mouth pulled wide in a thin, snake-like smile.

“Everything.”

A prickle of fear ran down Fred’s spine at those words and felt George stiffen.

Mrs. Malfoy stood as still as a statue and Fred kept his eyes glued on her, trying to convince himself that it was not the Order and the aurors between himself and Voldemort.  

He’d feel so much better if Hermione, Harry, and the others were there.  Hell, he’d even be happy to have the snakes around that had so recently joined them.

But he knew why they weren’t there.  Voldemort would do almost anything to kill Harry right now.  

“Now, while we wait, why don’t you tell me where Potter is hiding?”  Voldemort said, his eyes scanning the small crowd before him.

“He ain’t hiding!” Tonks called out.  

“We just knew you’d be disappointed not to find him here.  And we do love to disappoint Tom Riddle,” Padfoot drawled.

“That is not my name!”

“Funny, could’ve sworn that was the name on your diary,” Moony said.

Voldemort froze for a half-second, it was barely perceptible, but it happened.

“Or was it on the locket?” Padfoot asked.  “Remember?  The one my house-elf gave me to destroy?”

“No, I think it was on the cup I pulled from my sister’s Gringotts vault,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“Perhaps it was on all three?” Mrs. Tonks asked.

Mrs. Malfoy nodded her head.  “Mayhaps.  There was certainly a part of Tom Riddle on each of those.”

It was almost amusing, seeing panic on Voldemort’s snake-like face.

“You know, it’s no wonder Voldemort didn’t die back in 1981.  What will all those pieces of Tom scattered around.  Let’s see if we got them all.  Rufus?”  Padfoot asked.  “Want to do the honors?”

“With pleasure, _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

A jet of green light jumped from the Minister’s wand.  Voldemort may have been in shock, but he was still fast.  

Unnaturally fast.

Even as the Minister spoke the Dark Lord’s wand was already moving and he was screaming out, “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

Lord Voldemort’s spell shot right through the Minister’s, destroying it and taking Scrimgeour down before anyone could even blink.

“I think that’s enough for today.”

The shock and surprise on everyone’s faces was clearly evident.  Fred could hardly believe it himself, he’d never heard of a spell completely obliterating another one in mid-air.

Neither had Fred.

It wasn’t possible.  Unless…

The Deathstick!

Merlin damned Albus bloody Dumbledore had been the wielder of the Deathstick!!!  And Voldemort had killed him!

They were fucked.

Utterly and completely fucked.

“Break the wards!  Go!” Voldemort screamed, signalling a restart to the battle.

Chaos erupted and Fred ran throwing up a shield just in time to stop something from hitting Moony.

George started to rush towards his twin, but was stopped by Mamoru grabbing his wrist.

“Stop.  Something is off.”

They stood there, on the edge of the graveyard, a battle raging behind them as they stared at the pleasant looking grove of trees.

George shivered, a sudden hint of ice in the air.

He couldn’t help but wonder when will all of this end?  When will he stop fearing for Fred’s life?  It had been so terrible, that time Fred got sick and George didn’t.  He’d been so lonely.  Unable to reach out and feel his brother.  Fred’s magic had been sapped out of him, fighting the illness.  

Everyone had said it was normal, that he wasn’t supposed to use magic when sick anyways.

But they hadn’t understood.

They had never realized just how lonely they were, not having a twin.  Not having their other half.

“Now, George, go sleep with Ron.  Fred needs rest.”

“No, you can’t see Fred.  We can’t afford to have you sick, too.”

“GEORGE!  If I catch you trying to sneak in one more time you’ll regret it!”

“That’s it!  You’re going to go stay at Black cottage for a few days!  Sirius promised to keep you under control.  Bless that man!”

His mother’s voice, from so long again ran through his head, taking over his thoughts, blocking out all communication with the one he needed to hear from the most.

XXX

Fred was too far away when he saw the dark figures come gliding out of the copse of trees.  

There were so many of them.  Hundreds of them.  More than had ever been in Azkaban.

And they were headed right for George and Mamoru.

“ _Expecto Patr-”_

His spell was cut off as large chunk of stone slammed into his side.  He felt more than heard his ribs crack as he went flying through the air - coming to an abrupt stop when he slammed into a large tree.

_THUNK!_

His head swung forward and then backwards, straight into the solid trunk.

His vision grew blurry, but he didn’t need his eyes to see what was happening.  His mouth let out a scream of pain as he pushed himself to his feet, raising his wand arm and aiming straight at the dementors surrounding his brother.

“ _Expecto Patronum!”_

Nothing happened.

Blinking in confusion he looked down at his wand.  His mind barely made sense of what he saw.

His wand was so short...had it always been that short?  

No.  

Course not.  Then what-?

Oh.

Broken.

His heart lurched and he screamed out for his brother, seeking him out, but unable to make contact.

He tried to run, but his foot landed wrong and a deep, dull _CRACK_ sounded as he fell and hit the ground.

He lay there, watching the figures fully encircle his brother, hiding him from view.

George…

He pulled his arms up, pushing himself to his feet, heedless of the loud _Crack_ s caused by the Death Eaters now apparating out.  He grabbed onto a nearby tombstone, pulling himself up.  He got one foot solidly on the ground, but as soon as he put weight on the other white hot pain lashed through him.

He cried out, falling back to the ground, crying out for George even as darkness took him.

XXX

Alone.

He was so alone.

Hot tears burned George's cheeks as he sank to his knees.  His broken wand clutched tightly in his fist.

A hand touched his face.

Fred!

He opened his mouth to shout in glee, never knowing it was more than air that left him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so, so hard to write. So painful.
> 
> Dementors. Are. The. Worst.
> 
> That's all.


	59. Images

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rita captures images of the Graveyard Battle. Fred wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you, as always, to my betas.
> 
> Oh, and my betas would like to tell you all to bring tissues.

Rita moved slowly, lifting up a tree branch, aiming her camera, and capturing one of the most horrifying images she had ever seen.  

The entire graveyard was being swallowed in a sea of black as the dementors swept through it.  It was only her little silver seagull, perched on the branch in front of her, that kept their icy, desolate aura from overwhelming her.

Rita had been to Azkaban a few times, to interview people.  She’d seen the dead, uncaring looks in the eyes of those that had had all of their hope sucked away.

Not to mention her own time within those uncaring walls.

She could see the figures of the Order of the Phoenix, fleeing with their silver patroni.

She would flee too, if the Dark Lord hadn’t told her to be here.  He’d decided to fight words with words.  Images with images.

She captured another picture, telling the camera to zoom in on Sirius Black, apparating out two shell-shocked and injured wizards.

She’d give the Dark Lord the images he desired.  Showing his strength as he faced down the entire Order of the Phoenix.  She’d give him pictures of dementors swarming over the dead and living alike.

But he’d never know of her other photographs.  

She snapped an image of the two Black sisters standing beside their large, silvery patroni as they searched for any more survivors. 

This had been such a stupid plan.  The death toll was so high - on both sides.  But she knew now why it had all happened.

The Dark Lord was a fool.  Thinking the Order was stupid enough to let the Ministry hold such a public funeral for Albus Dumbledore without an ulterior motive.

Granted, the Order was foolish as well.  They had underestimated the Dark Lord.  There should have been more wards, more guards, more protections for all the innocents that were slain.

It made her sick, thinking back on all she had seen that day.  All the images she had caught.

Rita knew better than to think that the Order would take the blame though.  No, Rufus Scrimgeour had died this day and he had been Minister of Magic.  All blame would be laid at his feet, and no one would raise a voice to save his reputation.  He would be remembered as a foolish, overconfident hero of the wizarding world.

And, much as she liked to destroy images, Rita would let this one slide.  

She had bigger fish to fry.

A few more shots of the graveyard and she tapped the camera with her wand, closing it up and sending it back into her bag.

She was about done here.

After a quick look at her grandfather’s old gold watch she slipped into her animagus form and slipped off the branch, her little seagull following faithfully.

There was no way she was letting it go away yet.  Not with all those newborn dementors nearby.

She really wished the Dark Lord hadn’t found that terrible room at the Ministry when he decided to go after the prophecy himself.  Still, the discovery of that room had helped balance out his anger at finding the prophecy gone.

You win some, you lose some.

A low moan, so quiet she barely picked it up with her antennae, slipped through the air.

Curious, and with a bit of time to spare, she turned in the air and landed on the trunk of a thick oak tree.  Scurrying around, she found the source of the moan.

A Weasley.

He was in bad shape as well.  

His left foot was bent the wrong way and she could see a bit of bone poking out.  There was blood trickling down his neck from somewhere on his skull.  

She studied his face and flipped back through her memories, searching for a reference.

Hadn’t she just seen him?  He’d been with a dark-haired, Asian wizard.  They’d been surrounded and kissed by the dementors, she’d caught it on camera.  

Not for the Dark Lord, no, for her own book.  She wanted to clearly show the atrocities that Tom Riddle committed.

That meant this boy was as good as dead.  Without a soul…

She opened her casing, raising her wings to take off once more, but a thought crossed her mind.

What happened to the Asian man?

She stopped, looking around.  

Wait.

The Weasley’s had a pair of twins.  Was this boy one of the twins?  

And, if so, what should she do?

Should she leave him here to die?  Because that was certainly what would happen to him.  Either from his injuries or from a dementor.  The Dark Lord had no plans to call the dementors back to him, he was setting them free to roam and cause chaos as best they could.

No one would know if she left him.  No one could blame her for leaving him.

She had just enough time to get to the dead drop spot and see what Narcissa had left her.  If she took too long the Dark Lord would notice.  He’d wonder why - and that could make him examine her mind more closely.

She didn’t want that.

Giving the Weasley one last look she pushed off of the tree trunk and began flying away.

Halfway to the dead drop she turned around, cursing herself with every single inappropriate word she could come up with.

Narcissa and her bloody instructions would have to wait.  

So would the Dark Lord.

There had been enough death and destruction today.  She wasn’t going to let one more life slip away just because-

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Alecto Carrow stood over the Weasley boy, her brother, Amycus Carrow, beside her.

“Why, sister dear, I do think you’ve found a new toy.  I wonder if he can dance,” Amycus said cruelly.

The Weasley twisted on the ground and tried to sit up, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.  “No-”

“ _ Crucio _ !”  Alecto shouted gleefully.

The boy screamed, tossing on the ground, throwing up clumps of dirk as his fingers formed claws and dug at the dirt.

Rita had seen enough.  She’d never liked the Carrows.  And - if she really thought about it - there wasn’t much more information she could get from being in the Dark Lord’s employ.  She had a feeling that, good or ill, the end was coming soon.

And if the Dark Lord won she’d rather die than commit atrocities like this one.

She dismissed her little seagull and settled down behind the large oak tree before shifting back into her human form.

Taking a deep breath she twirled her wand and circled the tree.

“Skeeter!” Amycus cried upon seeing her.  “What are you doing here?”

Rita reached into her bag and pulled out the camera.  “Capturing moments for the Dark Lord.  Would you mind if I capture this little moment?”

Alecto stopped torturing the Weasley and the twins looked at each other for a moment.

A chill ran down Rita’s spine and she could see a herd of dementors breaking away and coming towards them.  The stupid Carrows didn’t even have a patronus up.

She rather suspected they were incapable of making one.

“Fine,” Alecto snapped, “but make it quick.”

“Alright.”

Rita lined up camera, being sure to clearly show the Carrow twins standing over Weasley with the dementors approaching in the background.

She waited timing it carefully and turning up the flash as high as it would go.

“Say, pureblood!” She called cheerfully, forcing out her most Lockhart like smile.

“Pureblood!” the Carrows said.

Rita squeezed her eyes shut and clicked the shutter.

CLICK!

The Carrows shouted in agony as they suddenly found themselves blinded.  Rita quickly dropped the camera back in her bag, grabbed her wand out of her pocket and crouched down, taking one of the hands of the poor, broken boy.  

Icy cold filled the air and she shivered.

“Rita, you’ll have to make your own dinner tonight.”

“Why can’t you just grow up, Rita?”

“Sorry, dear, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No, you’re not going anywhere this summer.  Your grandparents are dead.”

Hot tears poured down her cheeks.  She could feel them stinging her eyes and calling her out of that place dementors made her go.  She wasn’t that lost little girl anymore.  Her grandparents may be gone, but so were her parents.

The reminder that her parents were just as dead as her grandparents gave her the strength to gather her mind and apparate away - leaving the Carrows to their fate.

XXX

The world was nothing but torture for Fred.  Every inch of his body gave him nothing but pain and every ounce of his soul called out in despair.

Why couldn’t he just die?

If he strained he could feel George there, on the other side, just out of reach.

All it would take was-

“Oh, no you don’t!”

A force yanked at him, pulling him away from George.  He tried to cry out in fury, but it was nothing more than a squeak.

“I DID NOT save you and give up my place in the Dark Lord’s circle just to let you die!  Do you understand me, Mr. Weasley?”

It was the last two words that drew him up out of that well of torture.

Mr. Weasley?

What did his father have to do with anything?

He strained, forcing his eyes open.  At first all he could see was a blinding light.  His mind instantly went towards all those old jokes about a light at the end of a tunnel.

“That’s a good sign.  You opened your eyes.  Now, are you going to talk?”

He blinked rapidly, forcing the world to come into view.  

The face that filled his vision was one of the last faces he had expected to see.

“ _ Sk-Sk-Skeeter? _ ” he croaked.

She nodded, “Good, you have a mind still.  Here, take some water.”  She waved her wand and he felt himself pulled into a sitting position as a glass of water hovered in front of his lips, waiting for him to take it.

“Now, I know how these things go.  Here are the answers to your questions.  You’re safe.  For now.  We’re hiding out in an old house I inherited from my muggle grandparents.  The house is technically still in my mother’s name as I wasn’t born in the muggle world like she was.  Between that and my simple protections we’re about as safe as we can be.  You’ve been asleep for about a week now.  I’ve been keeping an eye on the outside world, but things aren’t looking good.  The Dark Lord went on a rampage over in Little Hangleton yesterday.  Even the muggles noticed and they’re all on edge.  The Ministry of Magic is a mess, no one’s in control.  Well, that’s not quite right.  The aurors have all teamed up with the Order of the Phoenix, who seems to be running the show.  I’m out of touch with Narcissa, so all I know is what the public does.”

Fred finished drinking the glass of water, realizing as he drained the last drop that he should have been more suspicious.  

Still, Mrs. Malfoy had had someone working for her in the Death Eaters.  Skeeter made a lot of sense.  He knew that, like Lockhart, she hadn’t gone out of her way to take the Mark.

“Where’s my bag?  Did you find it?”

She looked at him curiously for a moment.  “I found a small drawstring bag, but it was sealed.  What’s in it?”

“Something I can use to contact Harry and Hermione.  Only we-” he stopped and cleared his throat, tears burning his eyes, “-I can open it.  It’s tied to my family magic.”

That glint appeared in Skeeter’s eyes - the one that had made her such a successful journalist. “Tied to family magic?  Then shouldn’t your other siblings be able to open it?  You are a pureblood after all.”

Fred weighed the value of the information and then shrugged, tossing it out as a freebie for her saving him.  

It wasn’t a thought he wanted to look back on, but he did remember those two Death Eaters torturing him before Skeeter apparated away with him.  He was under no illusions, he knew they would have killed him if Skeeter hadn’t saved him, and - much as he wanted to join George - now that he was awake he knew that he couldn’t yet.  He had to avenge his brother.  Had to tell the others that Voldemort had the Deathstick.

“My mother never bound her magic.  All of us have a solid mixing of Weasley and Prewett magic.  It’s why we’re all so different.  Mrs. Malfoy also thinks it explains why there are so many of us.  Though Percy disagrees, apparently Weasleys have always tended towards large numbers of children.  A possible part of the family magic.”

Skeeter’s expression grew speculative and Fred could just hear the wheels turning there as she tried to find a way to use this information.

He sighed, “Can I please have my bag now?”

She nodded absently, reaching into her own bag and drawing out his.  He had to wonder just how a bag with infinite space fit inside of a bag with finite space.  Luna or Hermione would know, he was sure of it.  Maybe there was a product….

He wrenched his mind away from that thought.  Now was not the time for that.

The journal snapped into his hand, the little travel quill pressing into his fingers.

_ Forge _ _ : New Marauders, I’m alive. _

It took a moment, and Fred could feel Skeeter staring down at the journal, though he didn’t look up at her.  His heart was in his throat and his eyes burned as he saw his name merged with George’s.

_ King _ _ : FRED!!!!!! _

_ Ginger _ _ : DAMN iT FRED!  I THOUGHT WE LOST YOU TOO!!!!! _

_ Moon _ _ : I knew you were still here. _

_ Apple _ _ : I’m so sorry. _

_ Prongslet _ _ : Thank Merlin. _

_ Dragon _ _ : We’re so glad to hear from you. _

_ Phoenix _ _ : Where are you? _

_ Grass _ _ : Glad to hear it. _

_ Snake: Ready to kill some Death Eaters? _

_ Forge _ _ : Yes and I’m with the Beetle.  She rescued me from the Death Eaters.  We’re hiding someplace.  I just woke up.  I think I’m all healed up, though my entire body is sore. _

“That’s a side effect of the potions.  I’m afraid most of them were rather out of date, though they still worked.  Your bone is no longer poking out of your ankle,” Skeeter said pointedly.

Fred rolled his eyes.

_ Prongslet _ _ : We’ve learned something terrible since the funeral.  The entire thing was an elaborate plot to get Voldemort to reveal his last horcrux.  They listed a few and then hoped that they could track him to whatever one they missed.  Dumbledore never told them it was the snake.  If he even knew.  If I had just shared the information about the horcrux in me- _

_ Phoenix _ _ : Don’t you dare start this again!  It’s not our fault they want to treat us like ignorant children!  Now, Forge, pay attention.  You too, Beetle.  I’m sure you’re reading over his shoulder you nosy little- _

_ Snake _ _ : What Death Eaters?  What did she do to them? _

“The Carrow Twins, and I left them to have their souls sucked out by dementors,” Skeeter said.

_ Forge _ _ : The Carrows.  She let Voldemort’s dementors kiss them. _

_ Snake _ _ : Good.  Tell the Beetle we’re even now.  Her debt to me and mine is paid.  Alecto Carrow is the one that cursed me at Malfoy Manor. _

“You see that?” Fred asked Skeeter.  The woman nodded and he turned back to the journal.  

_ King _ _ : Voldemort already went after the ring at Little Hangleton.  He knows the snake is safe, so he’s likely coming to Hogwarts for the diadem.  The Order was ‘nice’ enough to warn us they found a horcrux here.  But they think he’ll check it last.  Won’t let us get a word in edgewise and we can’t put it in a letter. _

_ Dragon _ _ : The Cat won’t listen to us.  She’s treating us like idiot first years.  Grass’ mum isn’t here right now, either.  She’s off with the Order.  The Snake King is proving to be remarkably slippery.  We can’t get him in private to talk.  We could run off to the Order, but Phoenix says the danger is too great for Prongslet.  We need you to go to the Order and tell them what’s really going on.  Tell them about the accidental horcrux.   _

_ Prongslet _ _ : And how it’s gone.  That we have to kill that snake to kill Voldemort.  We’re counting on you Forge.   _

_ King _ _ : More than counting on you.  We miss you.   _

_ Ginger _ _ : We love you brother, and remember - you’re not alone.  Not now, not ever.  Got it? _

Fred’s eyes swam with tears and he could barely see the page, but that didn’t stop his quill from moving.

_ Forge _ _ : got it _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of things have changed now. And not exactly for the better. But that's okay, we're moving into the endgame here, and nothing will be the same afterwards for those that survive.
> 
> Hope ya'll all had a lovely week.


	60. Patience is a Virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred heads to the Marauders' Academy to talk to the Order. Hermione waits rather impatiently at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, a huge thank you, as always, to my lovely betas.

Hermione stared down at the blank journal lying on the scarred surface of an old desk, willing words to appear in Fred’s loose handwriting.  

“Staring at it won’t make him write back any faster.  They had to get from Skeeter’s house to Diagon Alley by muggle means.  And you know how long that will take,” Draco drawled from behind her.

She leaned back into him as he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck.  “I know, but I just feel so utterly helpless.  If I didn’t feel like we had to keep an eye on Harry I’d have snuck off the grounds and apparated to the Burrow a week ago!  But I can’t trust him not to go off and play hero.  He’s been an absolute fright since-” she closed her eyes and swallowed, unable to say the words.

He swung around, sitting on a chair next to her and pulling her onto his lap.  “I know.  Ron and Ginger aren’t taking it well either.  I’m quite surprised the three of them haven’t gone running off after the Death Eaters.  If I had a sibling…” he trailed off and she looked up at him.  His eyes had gone as hard as steel and she heard the unsaid words.

“We’ll get them.  We’ll get them all.  Every single last one.”

His lips twisted in something that could never truly be called a smile.  “Yes, but who will they get first? I don’t think I can handle losing you or my mother.  But you mostly.”

A sliver of fear sliced through her and she held onto him tightly.  “It will take more than a Death Eater to kill me.  Besides, I’ve got a score to settle with Bellatrix.  And this time I won’t hesitate.  That bitch is dead.”

“Don’t worry, even if you hesitate I won’t.  I think she was the one that killed my father.  And even if she wasn’t, it doesn’t matter.  She killed your parents.  And so many others.”

Hermione had no words to say to that, so, instead of responding she kissed him.  After all, there wasn’t much else she could do right now.  It wasn’t like anyone was listening to her.

XXX

Rage was boiling up inside of Harry and it had no way to escape.  

He should have been at that bloody funeral.  If he’d been there then maybe George wouldn’t be dead.  Maybe Tachiki wouldn’t be dead.  Maybe Voldemort wouldn’t have ran off after his horcruxes, leaving countless dead in Little Hangleton.  

Four the fourth time that day he stormed up to Professor Mcgonagall’s office and pounded on the door.  

And, for the fourth time there was no response.

He glared at the door and pounded again.

Nothing.

“Bloody Hell!!!”

He gave the door a solid kick before turning on his heel and storming away.  Mcgonagall HAD to be in there!  Why was she picking now to ignore him and Hermione?!?!  Did she think they knew nothing because they’d been in Hogwarts since Christmas?!?!

As he was storming past a window he glanced outside at the slowly lowering sun.  It was getting late, but he had too much energy and had to do SOMETHING or he would go crazy.

Maybe a flight was in order.  His broom was in his drawstring bag.  

Yes, a flight was the perfect thing.  Maybe he could even find Mcgonagall’s window and go pound on that for a change.

That idea made him smile as he headed for the Hogwarts grounds.

XXX

Fred adjusted his cloak - making sure it covered his red hair - and casually stepped into the Leaky Cauldron.  Tom looked up from the bar and eyed him suspiciously.  Fred could see the wizard’s wand lying on the counter within easy reach.

No, this was not the same pub he had come in for lunch with George a week ago.

Pain shot through him at the thought of his twin, but he stamped it down.  George wasn’t the only person he loved in the world.  And right now he needed to stay focused and get things done so that he could make sure no one else suffered the same fate.

And to that end he needed to get to the flat above his shop.  From there he could floo to the Marauder's Academy.  Someone from the Order had to be there.  He had to tell them about the horcruxes, warn them that the only place left was Hogwarts.

Not to mention the fact that Professor Dumbledore had been in command of the Deathstick and how Voldemort must have gained control of it by using his horcrux in the snake to kill the old wizard.

With those thoughts in the front of his mind he walked straight through the pub.  At the back he took out his wand and tapped the bricks - being careful not to dislodge the beetle clinging to his collar.  

Diagon Alley was deserted.

It felt more like it had been months - not a week - since he was last there.  

Several stores were boarded up and a number of others showed signs of being broken into.  Someone had even burned down Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor.

His hands clenched into fists as he walked down the street.  As he passed an alleyway he felt a decided chill that was far from natural.

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

Nothing came out of his wand.  The cold grew and he wondered why he had even tried to cast a spell.

Wouldn’t it just be easier to relax and not fight?  He could join George then and-

Little legs scurried up his neck, making him jump.

Skeeter.

She had saved him.  She had destroyed her position as Mrs. Malfoy’s spy.  He owed her a life debt.

A single dementor came gliding out of the alley.

His whole body hurt as he suddenly saw George being swallowed by their inky black forms.

No...not again…

No!

He refused to watch his brother die all over again!  

“ _EXPECTO PATRONUM_!”

A silvery raven emerged from his wand, flying straight at the dementor and making it flee in terror.

He stood, panting and watching the dementor flee until the raven flew back to him.  Without thinking he raised his arm and let the shining bird land.  

A raven.  He’d never had a raven before.  He’d always had a crow.

He smiled even as a warm wetness streaked down his face.

George.

George hadn’t left him.  Not really

The raven tilted its head, studying him for a moment before opening its beak and letting out a loud, “Kraa!” before disappearing.

But Fred knew he’d come back whenever he was needed.

Suddenly feeling calmer and more like himself Fred wiped the tears off his face and continued down the alley.

He was unsurprised to see the store intact.  After all, it was Bill and his friends who had done the wards.

No one knew wards like a curse-breaker.

And no Death Eater was getting through brand new professional wards without a lot of work - a phrase he doubt was even part of a Death Eater’s vocabulary.

He quickly unlocked the door and let himself inside before locking up again.

The beetle flew off his collar and landed on the store counter.  A moment later it was replaced by Skeeter.  She looked around the shop in mild amazement, her piercing gaze taking in every detail.

“I’m surprised your store is still standing.  Wouldn’t you be a target?”

“I’m certain they found that messing with a Weasley is much easier said than done.”

“Hmm.  Well, if you say so.  Now, shall we find the floo and get this done with?  I highly doubt Miss Black will approve of us wasting time.”

Fred snorted, “Since when do you care what Hermione thinks?”

Skeeter opened her mouth to reply but froze, a thoughtful expression appearing on her face.  “You know, I don’t think I know.  And it’s rather odd.  I never care what anyone thinks.”

His curiosity was piqued, but he had other things to worry about first.  Still he couldn’t help but asking, “You sure you don’t know?” as he hurried to the back, pulling supplies out of their secret stash.

“What, Weasley, you think you’re a reporter?  When I say I don’t know I mean I don’t know.  I didn’t give a damn about the girl back when I wrote that article about her and Malfoy.  Though I did come to respect her a bit after that first article she published.  Not many can write a first article like that and get it published in so many papers.”

Fred stuck several pouches of various powders in his drawstring bag before moving on to the potions.  “So you respected her first?  And now you care what she thinks of you.  Intriguing.  Now, can you go grab that little box off the shelf there?  The one with a red circle.  No, don’t open it!  Thank you.”  He slipped the box into his bag and scanned the shelves.  He didn’t think there was anything else.  The Academy had a cupboard full of the enchanted shield robes and hats.  

“What’s in that box?”

“A surprise for the Death Eaters.  Now, let’s get out of here.  Follow me and try not to touch anything.  Quite a few things will react to a non-Weasley.  Not that that ever stopped Hermione…”

Skeeter followed him quietly up the narrow stairs to the flat above the store.  Fred didn’t stop to give her a tour, it was too painful to be in their flat.  Everywhere he looked he could see George.   He walked directly to the fireplace and grabbed some floo powder.

“We’re going to have to go together as you’re not keyed to the floo there.”

“Should I change form again?”

He shook his head, “No, it won’t let anyone through in an animagus form.  I believe they had you specifically in mind when adding that little security.”

She let out a decidedly unladylike snort, “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because you’re actually rather intelligent?”

That apparently threw her for a loop as she didn’t speak another word while he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tossed the powder, and pulled her into the flames.

“Marauder's Academy!”

He squeezed his eyes shut as they spun through the floo world and before he knew it they had arrived.

The lobby was empty and fairly dark, but Fred could hear noise coming from down one of the hallways.  He almost called out, but decided against it.  What if he was wrong and the academy wasn’t as secure as he thought?

No, better to be safe.

With that thought in mind he drew his wand, noticing that Skeeter did the same.  Part of him wondered if he should trust her.  She could be trying to double-cross him.  No, he doubted Voldemort would trade two loyal Death Eaters for a possible spy.

Besides, Mrs. Malfoy had trusted her and Hermione trusted Mrs. Malfoy.  So who was Fred to argue with that?  At least in his own mind?

They quietly crept down the hall, moving towards the noise..  

Fred frowned as they grew closer.  If he didn’t know better he’d think that someone was doing something very inappropriate here…

“Someone is having sex,” Skeeter stated.

Fred shot her a look.  

“Stop and listen, they can’t hear us.”

He rolled his eyes but stopped to listen.

There was a loud moan followed by a deep, animalistic growl.

Okay, maybe someone was having sex here.

“Fine.  Let’s go interrupt.  Destroying the dark lord is a bit more important than having a tipple in a deserted school.”

“Point,” Skeeter said.

That really made Fred give her a look.

“Now what?  You have a point.  We need to talk to the Order before anyone else dies.”

He shook his head, “Nothing.”

The animalistic noises were coming from the main classroom used by the Defense classes.  The door there was slightly ajar, so Fred crept up to it and looked through the gap.

The sight made him wish that he wasn’t in such a hurry and he’d gotten there earlier.  While he really didn’t want to see his old professor in this state he couldn’t help but admire the sight of Tonks bent over a desk naked as the day she was born.  He and George had had quite the crush on her back when they were first and second years.

He was considering how to get their attention safely when Tonks let out a loud shriek and her hair rapidly rippled through all the colors of the rainbow before settling on her natural mousey brown.  

Mooney responded by pulling her up into a standing position and holding her tight as he began to move faster.  

Fred took a step back from the door.  If the usually calm and reserved Mooney was acting like this in a ‘public’ place than it had to be close to the full moon.

“Skeeter, what part of the moon are we in?”

“Hmm? Oh,” she pulled away from where she had been looking into the room, “I think it’s tomorrow.  Had to keep track of it for the Dark Lord.  Greyback may have been captured and imprisoned but we still had a handful of werewolves wandering around.”

A guttural growl sounded from the classroom, followed by the cessation of the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Fred counted to sixty and then raised his fist and knocked firmly on the doorframe.  

“Who’s there?!?” Tonks shouted out.

“It’s Fred.  I need to-”

He was abruptly cut off as the door was flung open and he found his arms full of Tonks.  

“You’re alive!  When we couldn’t find you-!”

Mooney walked up behind Tonks, looking much calmer than he had before.  He was fixing his robes with his wand and eyeing Fred somewhat suspiciously.  “It’s good to see you in one piece Fred.  Now, care to tell me two things?”

“Yes, professor?”

“Just what exactly did you and George do to Hermione back in school?”

“What time?”

“Pick one.”

“Alright.  When we were ten we stole Percy’s wand and managed to curse Hermione so that whenever she handed you a piece of parchment then it would crumble to ashes.”

“And what did I do to you two?”

“You gave us the same curse.  Just as we were turning in the essays on magical beasts in muggle mythology.  George started crying seeing all our hard work disappear.  I tried to curse you, but didn’t have a wand.  We never messed with anyone’s academic career again.”

Mooney gave a small smile and pulled Fred into a hug as Tonks moved away, “Glad to see you alive, Fred.  I know you’re likely not feeling the same way, but that’s alright.  That’s a normal feeling.”

“This is nice and all, but we really need to talk to the Order.  Fred’s got important information about the Dark Lord.”

Tonks let out a gasp, her wand flying into her hand.  “YOU!  What are you doing here?!?  Fred?”

Fred moved to stand between Tonks and Skeeter.  “It’s fine.  She saved me from being killed by the Carrows.  Got them kissed.  Apparently she’s been working in secret to give Mrs. Malfoy information since Christmas.  Blew her cover to save me.  Then she healed all my injuries.”

Tonks and Mooney gave Skeeter the stink eye.  “Oh, really?” Tonks asked.  “I have trouble seeing Skeeter do anything at all nice.”

“Better believe it.  He had broken ribs, a broken ankle, and a very serious concussion.  Not to mention numerous cuts and bruises.  Oh, and the Carrows had used the Cruciatus Curse on him before I got rid of them.  I may be selfish and rather cold-hearted, but even I have my limits on how much torture and death I can just standby and watch.”

Tonks looked like she didn’t believe her, but chose not to argue.

“Where’s everyone else?” Fred asked.

Mooney flushed a bit, “They’re all at the Burrow.  We, ah, came here to make sure everything is setup for me tomorrow night.  Your mum is fixing enough food for a feast.  I know she can’t stop worrying about you.  So, uh, let’s go.”  He nodded firmly and then headed for the lobby, ushering Skeeter in front of him.

Fred watched them for a second before looking back at Tonks and raising an eyebrow.  “Does he really think I’ll believe you two were just setting up?”

She glared, “You better believe it!”

He snickered, “Ah, well, it’s really hard to believe his words when I know what I saw with my own eyes.”

She gaped at him and he winked.

Her hair turned a brilliant scarlet.  “FRED WEASLEY!!!”

“I’m not Fred, I’m-” he stopped, all humor draining out of him.

Tonks’ skin became deathly pale even as her hair turned a deep, sorrowful black.  “Oh, Fred-”

“Never mind,” he said coldly to cover the pain in his heart.  “Let’s go.”

He hurried up the hallway, taking deep breathes and blinking back tears as Tonks followed.

Maybe he should give up on teasing people.  It just wasn’t the same anymore.

XXX

Draco’s hands snaked up inside of Hermione’s robes, touching wonderfully soft skin.  She nipped at his neck and he groaned even his fingers slipped up under her bra, making her gasp.

It was odd that she now had no trouble with him touching her torso under her robes, but he had yet to see her arms or legs without cloth covering them.

Hell, he’d yet to actually see any of the places his hands had roamed.  But that was her decision, not his.

He tilted his head down and pressed small kisses down her face as his fingers continued their exploration.

 _Tap-tap_.

They jerked apart, wands slipping out of sleeves as Hermione hopped off his lap.  The classroom was still empty and the door was closed.

“Merlin take him!”

That was when Draco realized that without even planning it they had moved to cover opposite sides of the room.  While he had faced the door Hermione had faced the windows.  He turned to watch her stride over to one of the windows and fling it open.

Floating in mid-air outside the window was Harry on his bloody broomstick, with the setting sun directly behind him.

Draco glared at the person who would hopefully be his brother-in-law one day.  Draco knew Hermione refused to consider them anything but more than friends, but he knew what he wanted now.  He knew it might take a few decades, but he’d eventually win her over.  And, thanks to their little fealty vow he’d know the exact moment she wanted to marry him.

“Get a room!” Harry hollered at them.

“We have a room!!!” Hermione yelled back.

“Okay, get one with no windows then!”

Draco glared and shot a stinging hex at Harry.  The other boy just laughed and dodged out of the way.  

“Seriously, Harry.  Just what are you doing?” Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared at her brother.  “It’s almost fully dark outside!  Get in here right now!”

Harry made a face, but did as she said and flew into the room before hopping off his broom and dropping it in his drawstring bag.

It was so weird to watch an entire broom fit in a bag that didn’t even look big enough to hold a quaffle.  Hermione was brilliant.

She started berating her brother so he went over to the window and began to close it.  He stopped halfway through and frowned.  

He could have sworn something was moving by the whomping willow.  And even in the dusky half-darkness between the setting of the sun and rising of the moon he could tell it wasn’t the tree moving.

Maybe an animal?

He stared for a moment, searching the grounds, but could see nothing odd now.

“Draco?  Something wrong?”

“No, just thought I saw something by the whomping willow.”

“Let me see,” Harry said, sliding in next to Draco and looking out the window.  “Okay, that’s odd.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“The willow isn’t moving.  It’s almost like someone touched the tree root.”

“Tree root?” Draco asked.

“Long story,” Hermione answered.  “But that isn’t good.  I think we need to go look.”  She pulled out her fake galleon and changed it to tell everyone to meet at her classroom.  “But let’s play it safe, we shouldn’t go alone.  Not right now.”

“Any news from Fred?” Harry asked.

She shook her head, “No, but he should be getting back to us soon.”

“Let’s hope so,” Draco said, glancing back down at the unmoving whomping willow.  “I don’t think Voldemort is going to wait forever to check on his horcrux here.”

“Point,” Hermione said as the three of them settled down to wait for the rest of the New Marauders.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a bit of a breather chapter, was it not? Hope ya'll enjoyed it!
> 
> It's interesting how some people were glad that Fred lived, while others thought the twins should always be together - even in death.


	61. The Order of the Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred informs the Order just how big of a mistake they made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my amazing betas.

Fred stepped out of the fire and into his parents’ sitting room.  Thankfully the room was empty, but Fred could hear many voices in the kitchen.  He guessed that his mother had actually finished cooking dinner.

Skeeter emerged just as Fred moved out of the way.  She looked mildly jumpy and nervous as her piercing eyes scanned the well-worn room.

“They’re in the kitchen.”

She nodded and moved away from the hearth; just in time to give Mooney and Tonks room as they flooed in together.  

Tonks scanned the room and pursed her lips in annoyance.  “Someone is supposed to stay in here and watch the floo.  I swear!”  She stormed out of the room, almost knocking over a battered end table as she went.  

“Well, no time like the present.  Your parents have been worried sick about you,” Mooney said, following after his fiancee.  

For the first time since waking up in Skeeter’s safehouse Fred felt true doubt.  Would his parents still want him without George?  

He was half of a whole.  

Broken.

“Let’s go, Weasley.” Skeeter said, moving towards the door.  “Before Miss Black decides to leave Hogwarts and do this herself.  Blacks aren’t known for their patience.”

The idea of Hermione sneaking out of the safety of Hogwarts - and likely bringing his siblings with her - got Fred moving.  No, Blacks were not known for being patient.

He stepped into the doorway of the magically expanded kitchen.  No one even noticed him. 

Tonks was quite busily lecturing the room at large.

“-is no excuse!  ANYONE could break into the Ministry and mess with the floo network!!!  Constant Vigilance!  If Moody was here-!”

“Relax, Tonks.  I set an alarm.  Anyone not carrying a Catchpole Coin would set it off.”  Padfoot said as he stood up from his spot at the end of the table, next to Alianore.

“And what if a Death Eater had put one of us under the Imperius?!?!  Or taken one of us hostage?!?!  Why are you suddenly getting so stupid and lazy?!?  Between this and what happened at the graveyard I am utterly disg-”

“Now, Dora, we’ve been over this,” Mrs. Malfoy said soothingly.  “We did not know he had enough dementors to break through our protections.  Also, we had to draw him out and prove to the public beyond a doubt that he was back.”

“Not to mention we need him to lead us to the missing horcrux.”  Padfoot nodded at Professor Snape, who was sitting as far away from the Blacks as he possibly could.  “Snape will let us know where the Dark Lord goes next and we will meet him, destroy the horcrux, and eliminate him.  Yes, we made a mistake, but not everything can go our way.  This is war.”

Fred closed his eyes and took a deep breath before stepping fully into the kitchen.

“I know where Voldemort is going.”

Chairs scrapped as over a dozen wizards and witches spun in their seats.  Some raised their wands, but many just stared in shock.

Well, all except for one witch.

“FRED!!!”

His mother practically flew across the kitchen.  He didn’t have time to do anything before he found himself enveloped in the loving embrace of his mother.  For a single heartbeat Fred stood there frozen, uncertain on how to react.  It had been many, many years since he had allowed his mother to hug him like this.

It had always been embarrassing.

Except this time it wasn’t.

“Mum-” His voice came out as nothing but a croak and she hugged him tighter.

He broke.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before he recovered his composure and by that time his older brothers and father were there.  As he hugged each of his brothers he came to the oddest realization - he could feel them. 

Almost like he had always felt George, but much weaker.  

It had to be his family magic.  It was adapting, adjusting to fit the new circumstances.  After all, he was still young enough that the two pieces he had inherited from his parents were still mixing together.

That was both comforting and disconcerting.  He really didn’t want to think too hard on it right now.

“What the FUCK are you doing here!?!”

Padfoot’s furious words cut through the Weasley family reunion.

The older man was standing with his wand out and aimed at the blonde witch standing in the doorway to the kitchen.  She was holding her wandless hands up for all to see.

“Yes, Rita, what are you doing here?”  Mrs. Malfoy asked coldly.  “I thought we had an agreement.”

Skeeter gave a nervous smile, “Yes, well, you see-” she stopped and looked over at Fred for help.

He untangled himself from his family and moved to stand between the Blacks and Skeeter.  “She’s here because she destroyed her position in the Death Eaters to save me from the Carrow twins.  I was moments away from being killed and she eliminated them, then got me out of there and healed my wounds.  I had a serious concussion - not to mention numerous other injuries - and she couldn’t risk taking me to St. Mungos, not when both sides want her dead or imprisoned.  That’s why it took so long for me to come back.She was working for Mrs. Malfoy, but could only contact her through dead-drops.”

Mrs. Malfoy grew thoughtful, “When you missed the dead-drop after the Battle of Godric’s Hollow....”

“I was saving Weasley here.  There wasn’t really a lot of time to spare.”

“You know, the Dark Lord is quite put out that no one could find you after the battle.  He’s convinced that you were captured or killed.  Seems to believe you’re extremely loyal to him.” Snape said, rising from the table and moving to stand by Mrs. Malfoy.

Skeeter sneered, “Just as he believes you’re extremely loyal?”

Snape sneered back and drew his wand. “I am a skilled occlumens.  As far as I know, you are not.”

“Well, that just goes to show that the bat of the dungeons doesn’t really know anything.”

“Oh, really?” Snape said coldly.  “Let’s see about that.   _ Legilimens _ !”

“Severus Snape!  I already-” Mrs. Malfoy started, but Padfoot shushed her.  “It’s fine, Cissy.   Severus has never been a trusting sort.  Let him determine her loyalty for himself.”

Tonks scoffed, “So we’re going to trust the traitor to check out a possible spy?  Brilliant.  Utterly brilliant!”

“Hush, Nymphadora.  Severus will never again be loyal to the Dark Lord.  Not after he broke his promise and killed the only person Severus ever loved.  Now, Sirius-” she stopped, her eyes going wide in shock as she realized what she had said.

You could have heard a pin drop as everyone stopped to stare at Mrs. Malfoy in shock.  Then, as one, everyone turned their gaze to Snape, who was still delving into Skeeter’s mind.

“Wait- WHAT?” Padfoot exclaimed.  “Who-?  No.  Don’t tell me.  It was-”

“Lily,” Mooney finished, hollow acceptance in his tone.

Maybe it was due to the tumultuous emotions he’d been experienced since he awoke earlier that day, but Fred didn’t feel any real shock at Mrs. Malfoy’s words.  Nor did he waste time staring at Snape or Padfoot.  No, he kept his eyes on Mrs. Malfoy.  

Blurting out information was not something that Black’s did unless they were in the middle of a tantrum - a state that Mrs. Malfoy was clearly not in.

And so it was that he saw the gleam of satisfaction and triumph in Mrs. Malfoy’s eyes in the single instant that it shone through before being buried once more under shock.

She’d deliberately exposed why Snape had to be fully loyal to the Order.  Why?

“Wait.” Tonks said, turning to stare at Mrs. Malfoy.  “Are you trying to tell me that  _ Snape _ is the sole survivor of a tragic love story?”

Snape broke away from Skeeter’s mind just in time to hear Tonks’ words.  

Fred couldn’t have planned it any better.  Though all this nonsense was delaying his actual mission…

“Narcissa…” Severus said in a voice that could have frozen fiendfyre, “What. Did. You. Say?”

“You-you-you loved Lily?!?!?”  Padfoot exclaimed, eyes going a little wild.

“Um, excuse me, but-” Fred started.

“That’s none of your business you mangy cur.”  Snape bit off as he glared daggers at everyone. 

“But-”

Alianore walked over and laid a hand on Padfoot’s arm.  “Sirius.  I think this is something to discuss later.  Young Fred here said something about knowing where the last horcrux is.  And I really, really want to end this,” her grey eyes became sharp daggers, “and someone needs to pay for what happened to Mamoru.”

Fred internally winced in pain.  He’d been so caught up in losing George that he’d forgotten about the others that had also been lost in the graveyard.  And, if they didn’t hurry then innocent children would be hurt as well.  The younger students would be at the total mercy of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters if Hogwarts was attacked.

It wouldn’t take forever for the castle’s defenses to fall.

With that thought in mind he set set his jaw and cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

“We - and by we I mean Hermione - believes that the missing horcrux was an accidental one created the night that Lily and James Potter died.  The Dark Lord’s soul was already severely damaged and a piece of it broke off.  It lodged itself in Harry.” Gasps sounded around the room and Padfoot opened his mouth to interject, but Fred pressed on, cutting off anything the older man would say.  “During the Battle of Malfoy Manor Voldemort entered Harry’s mind and the mind of his snake in order to kill Dumbledore.  Something odd happened and Harry found himself in some weird place with three clingy creatures.  Through the help of his blood ward connection to Hermione he broke free and left the three creatures behind.  His scar hasn’t hurt once since then and we believe that the horcrux broke off.  It wasn’t destroyed, but rather merged with Voldemort or his pet snake - who is his new horcrux.  So, you see, now that Voldemort has gone after whatever horcrux was in Little Hangleton he’ll go after the only horcrux he thinks he has left - the one in Hogwarts.”

He stopped and looked around.  Everyone was staring at him in wide-eyed horror.  Well, everyone except Snape, he had a look of dawning realization on his face.

“Hermione and Harry have been trying to tell someone all week, but Mcgonagall is treating them like children who know nothing.  Mrs. Longbottom’s not around.”

“She’s tracking Voldemort’s movements,” Mooney supplied helpfully.

Fred nodded in thanks and continued, “And Snape has refused to meet with them alone.”

“I have a cover to keep,” Snape bit off.

“They also didn’t want to trust the information to a letter.  Just in case it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Bloody hell…” Padfoot whispered, dawning horror on his face.

“Oh, and Voldemort now has the Deathstick.  Apparently Dumbledore was the master of it.”

“That’s just a myth!” his mum exclaimed.

Fred shook his head, “No, mum.  Hermione found enough research to prove it’s real.  Besides, Ollivander confirmed it.  That’s part of why we moved him to a safe house.”

“He’s been a lovely house guest,” Mr. Lovegood said.  He was currently still seated at the magically-extended kitchen table.  “Lots of fascinating information about the Deathly Hallows.”

“Yes, that’s nice, Xeno,” Mooney said absently.  

“We need to up the patrols at Hogwarts.  It’s already been four days since the attack on Little Hangleton.  He’s bound to move soon.  If he thinks the diadem is the last horcrux he’ll do anything to recover it,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“Point,” Percy said.

Fred watched as Padfoot took a deep breath and wiped the horror from his face.  The change was almost immediate.  He was once more the auror that Fred had grown up admiring.

“If he doesn’t attack tonight, it will be tomorrow.  He won’t wait.  Snape, he said nothing?”

“He did ask what I had planned for this evening and seemed very pleased when I said it there was an Order meeting.”

“It will be tonight,” Mooney said.  “He’ll want to use his werewolves and tomorrow he’ll have no control over them.”

Padfoot began to start pacing.  “We need people in the castle, as well as a way to keep the students safe. Especially those under seventeen.  Severus I want you to take Dora and a few others back to the castle.  Speak with Mcgonagall and get things organized.  Try to-”

Fred interrupted, “Wait, Professor Snape, why did you react like that when I said Harry had been a horcrux?  Did you know already?”

Padfoot stopped pacing and stared at his old classmate, as did everyone else.

Snape grimaced, “Before last Christmas Albus was saying some things that now make much more sense.  As do some of the things I removed from his office before the Ministry got there.  I think he either knew or suspected that Harry was a horcrux.”

“Bloody hell,” Fred whispered, horror rising up inside of him.  “You mean he  _ knew _ ?  And said  _ nothing _ ?”

“Merlin damn him!”  Padfoot snarled.  “Why was he always so damned secretive!  If he had only told us then-”

“Mamoru would be alive,” Alianore said.

“As would George,” his mum said, her eyes narrowing in anger.

“Yes, secrets got people killed.  But now is not the time for this.  The Dark Lord could be moving on Hogwarts right now.  He thinks his last horcrux is there.  Not to mention Harry.  We need to move to protect the school.  We can be angry at a dead man later.”

Everyone agreed with Mrs. Malfoy’s words, but there was a strong undercurrent of betrayal and anger as Padfoot returned to giving everyone directions.  Fred found himself assigned to wait in Hogsmeade with Bill, Charlie,  and several other skilled flyers.  They would await a patronus message from someone in the castle before attacking Voldemort’s rear.  A good way to create confusion among the Death Eaters and try to keep the Order’s losses to a minimum.

Bill and Charlie led the others in their group out to the broom shed, but Fred didn’t follow.  He had his broom in his drawstring bag.  He knew he had a few minutes to spare so he slipped out of the kitchen and back into the sitting room.  

The other New Marauders had been waiting for almost five hours for news from him.  It didn’t seem like a good idea to keep them waiting any longer - not when an attack was imminent.  It took but a moment to pull out his journal and take a seat at the small butler’s desk.  

Before he could even set his quill to parchment the fake galleon in his pocket began to burn.  He jerked in surprise, hitting the inkpot and making ink spill everywhere.  He scrambled to yank the burning coin out of his pocket; a terrible feeling settling in his chest.

That terrible feeling was not misplaced.  The two words engraved where a serial number should be made his blood run cold.

**_They’re here._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm evil. And there was no dramione in this chapter.
> 
> Hope ya'll have a lovely week!


	62. They're Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco head off to check out the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. Hermione keeps an eye on the Marauder's Map.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my amazing betas!

“Harry, do you have the Marauder's Map?”

Draco’s words cut through the silence of the classroom, bringing Hermione and Harry’s attention to him.

“The map?  Oh!  The map!”  Harry quickly pulled his drawstring bag out of his robes.  The map sprang instantly into his hand and he yanked it out of the bag.  It took only a moment to lay it on a desk and touch his wand to it.  “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Lines of ink raced across the parchment and he stared at them avidly as Hermione and Draco crowded close.

His eyes attached to the bit of tunnel running from the whomping willow to the edge of the map.

Nothing.

“Damn, nothing by the whomping willow,” he said, scowling in frustration.

“Maybe it was someone coming into the school.  Come on, let’s spread the map out and search it.  They have to be somewhere.  It’s only been a few minutes since you saw movement by the tree,” Hermione said logically.

Harry tried to do as she said, but his hands were shaking from all the pent up frustration and worry.  Draco helped him lay out the map without a word.

Together the three of them searched, but found nothing before the door opened and the others arrived.

“What’s going on?”  Ron asked, hurrying over to the map.  Luna at his side.

“Someone used the secret passage under the whomping willow,” Harry answered without looking away from the map.  His eyes were still searching for any unusual names.

“Could it have been someone sneaking back in from a trip to Hogsmeade?” Ginny asked, slipping her arm around Harry’s middle and giving him a light squeeze.

Harry shook his head, “Couldn’t be.  They knew where to touch the tree to stop it from moving.  Padfoot always said that was a closely guarded secret.  I don’t even know.  He didn’t want me doing anything stupid.”

“Smart man,” Theo said.

“It has to be Pettigrew,” Ron said.  “He must have told a Death Eater or Voldemort about where to touch.”

“Can’t be,” Draco quickly responded.  “Pettigrew was kissed by dementors before being put in Azkaban.  I heard about it when the Dark Lord was living in my house.”

“Maybe it was his soul, escaped from the dementors,” Luna suggested.

Pansy snorted, “That’s just stupid.  Obviously Pettigrew told someone before that Halloween night.”

“He was likely bragging about old adventures,” Neville said.

“The how is not as important as the who right now.  Please, focus!”  Hermione scolded.  “We need to figure out if this is something serious or not!  Lives could be on the line!”

“Point,” Harry said, cutting off Pansy as she opened her mouth to argue.  “How about I go with a couple of you and go check out the tunnel.  Everyone else, keep an eye on the map and be ready to call for help.”  There was no way he was going to sit here and let others go check this out without him.  He had the most Defense training out of all of them.

“I’ll go!”  Hermione and Draco said together.

Ron shook his head, “No, one of you should stay since you two can speak mind to mind.  I think it should be Hermione that stays. It makes more sense for you to stay here.  A lot of students and teachers respect you.  And you will be the most successful at convincing others if this is something serious.”

“But-” Hermione started

“He’s right,” Harry found himself saying.  “Between your articles, academics, and last name you have a lot of power.  And I’ll have others watching my back.  It will be fine.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed and she nibbled at her lip, deep in thought for a moment before she released a grudging sigh.

“Fine, I’ll stay here, but who else is going with Draco and Harry?”

“I’ll go,” Ron answered.  “All three of us are good flyers.  If we find nothing in the Shrieking Shack we’ll just fly straight back here.  Much faster than the tunnel.”

“Good idea, but what about the rest of us?”  Theo asked.

“Be ready for anything and watch that map.  Someone may try to come on or off the school grounds in another location,” Ron answered promptly.

“That’s settled then,” Harry said quickly before any more protests could be raised.  He was practically jumping out of his skin, the urge to go check out the tunnel was so strong.

“Fine, but Harry?”

He looked at Hermione, meeting her amber gaze with his own emerald one.

“Yes?”

“I solemnly swear that if you do something stupid and die I WILL find your ghost and kill you again.  Understood?”

He gulped and nodded, “Yes.”

She then turned her piercing gaze on Draco, but this time she reached out with one hand and grabbed his tie, pulling him towards her until they were almost touching.

Harry found it interesting that Draco didn’t protest at all.

“The same goes for you.  Got it?”

Draco nodded stiffly.

She started to let him go, but Harry wasn’t surprised at all when instead of hurrying away Draco swooped down and delivered a passionate kiss on Hermione’s lips.

Harry’s cheeks grew red and he looked away in embarrassment only to find his vision filled with Ginny.

“What? Have a problem with a good luck kiss?” she asked.

He gulped and shook his head mutely.

She grinned and stood up on her toes as her arms encircled his neck. 

It was quite unlike any of their other kisses.  The possibility of danger, along with his own turbulent emotions made it so much more powerful.

When they broke apart they were panting.

“Now, let’s go,” Ginny said, heading for the door.

“Wait, what?”  Harry asked, feeling rather confused and stupid.

She stopped and looked at him in surprise.  “What?  You didn’t really think I would let you run off with only my brother and Dragon?  No way.  I’m just as good of a flyer as you three - if not better.  Now, let’s go.”

She spun on her heel, her red hair swirling around her like flames as she left the small classroom.  

Harry looked over at Ron, “I thought you said only you, me, and Draco?  Are you going to let-”

“Harry, mate, I like being alive.  If Ginny wants to come, I’m not going to argue.”

“But-”

“Harry, just go!”  Pansy shouted.  “You’re wasting time!”

“Yes, go!”  Hermione urged.

Harry sighed and checked to make sure his wand was in his sleeve and his drawstring bag was hanging from his belt before following after his girlfriend.  Ron and Draco right on his heels.

XXX

As soon as the door closed Hermione looked back down at the map spread across the table.  Her eyes followed the four little dots moving away from her.  She really didn’t like the idea of Harry technically leaving the grounds without her, but Ron had been right.  Others were more likely to listen to her than they were to Draco.  There was also the unspoken knowledge that Harry wasn’t going to sit by idly and do nothing.

No, her brother was many things, but patient was not one of them.

“Are we really going to stand around here and do nothing but watch?” Pansy asked.

Hermione shook her head and continued to watch the figures travel down the stairs to the ground floor.  “No, we’re not.  But let’s wait to make sure they reach the tunnel.”

“Did they ever say how they were going to get past the whomping willow?” Neville asked.

“Oh!” Hermione felt her cheeks heat up.  “I forgot to tell them how to do that!”

The others looked at her in accusation.

“How come you know when Harry said Mr. Black would never tell him?” Pansy asked.

“Because Hermione knows everything,” Luna answered calmly.

Hermione snorted, “I don’t know everything, Luna.  But I was seen as more responsible than Harry.  Well, that and Harry was off visiting Ron one night when Padfoot had a bit too much firewhiskey and started dwelling on the past.  I distracted him by getting him to talk about their happier times at school.  He let it slip.”  She shrugged and looked innocent, “Right place at the right time.”

“Right, and I’m a goblin’s uncle,” Theo said.  “You likely steered the entire conversation in that direction and he was too drunk to notice.”

Hermione didn’t deny it.  It wasn’t like she’d planned to use the information for troublemaking, but it was always better to know more and not need it.

“Point, now hush, I need to talk to Draco.”

_ Draco, I need to tell you how to get past the whomping willow. _

_ Wait, you know?  I thought Harry said Sirius never shared that information. _

_ Long story, I’ll tell you later.  Now, there’s a knot at the base of the tree.  Get a long stick and poke it.  The tree should stop instantly. _

_ Which knot?  I see two. _

She glanced down at the map and noted in surprise that they were basically at the whomping willow.  Boy could those four move fast when they wanted to.  She supposed there were some bonuses to being athletes.

_ I’m not sure.  Padfoot didn’t specify.  I do know that Pettigrew used to reach it easily in his rat form. _

_ Alright, we’ll try the lower one first. _

Hermione hurried over to the window and looked down.  The nearly full moon was just beginning to rise; casting enough light over the grounds for her to just make out four figures down by the swinging tree.

Abruptly the tree froze.

_ Got it.  Was the lower one. _

_ Alright.  And Draco? _

_ Yes? _

_ You better come back in one piece.  Got it? _

One of the figures turned and looked up at her.  He then gave her a formal bow.

_ As you wish, my love. _

The world crashed to a standstill and Hermione distinctly felt her heart stop.  

Love?

They had never spoken of love.

But…

Moments flashed through her head as her emotions spun like a whirlwind.  Could she call him love?  Did she feel that strongly for him?

She didn’t know.

And how could he feel that strongly for her?  She was damaged.  Even now she could feel the raised scars rubbing against the inside of her robes.  The words etched into her hand lying before her on the windowsill.

No.  There was no way he really-

_ I can hear your brain spinning from here.  Hush, Hermione.  Don’t think too much on it.   _

_ But- _

_ No.  Now go get started on whatever you planned to do but didn’t want to say in front of Harry. _

_ How- _

His laughter echoed through her head.

_ You gave in much too easily.  Now, I need to concentrate.  You would not believe how small this passage is.   _

She sighed and moved away from the window and back to the map.

_ Alright, be safe.  And keep an eye on Harry. _

_ Will do.  And you be safe as well. _

“Well, they’re off the map,” Pansy stated.

Hermione’s eyes scanned the battered piece of parchment.  “Do we see anyone unusual?”

“No.  Looks like everyone is heading to the Great Hall for dinner,” Neville said.  “Do you think we should go there ourselves?”

“No, let’s sneak down to the kitchens and get some sandwiches.  Then we’ll head to the Shifting Room and keep an eye on the map while we eat.  Something feels off.”

She folded up the map and slipped it inside of her robes as the five of them left the classroom.  It didn’t take too long to collect sandwiches from the house elves and head up the Shifting Room.  They did stop a few times on the way so Hermione could check the map.

When they reached the proper spot in the castle Luna happily skipped back and forth in front of the blank wall to summon the room.

Nothing happened.

Hermione frowned, “Luna, you’re doing it right, aren’t you?”

“Of course.  Maybe the room’s been infested by nargles.”

Hermione ignored that suggestion and pulled out the map.  She didn’t think the Shifting Room was on it, but better to check.

“Do you see anyone?” Neville asked.

“No.  The Shifting Room isn’t even on here.  I don’t think the Marauders knew about it.”

“Or the magic of the room prevented them from mapping it,” Theo suggested.

“Someone else must be in there.  It could be Mclaggen and Creevy,” Pansy said.  “Harry did show them the room.”

“Let’s see.”  Hermione scanned the map and found Mclaggen and Creevy sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.  “No, they’re on here.  They aren’t the ones.”

“Then it has to be whomever slipped through the secret passage under the Whomping Willow,” Pansy stated.

“If it’s a Death Eater in there I don’t think we should just sit around and wait for them to come out.”  Theo nervously raised his silver arm and adjusted his robes.  

“We should set a trap.” Luna examined the stones in front of where they door typically appeared.  As they all watched she pulled a piece of chalk out of her drawstring bag and drew a loopy circle that almost resembled a cloud on the stone.  “Pansy, do you have the Weasley’s Smashing Stickum?”

“Of course, but that will just stick their shoes to the stones, they can climb out of them.”  The Slytherin girl spoke as she pulled a small tub of the special paste out of her bag.

“Point, but I’m sure Luna has another part to this plan.  She’s not exactly new to things like this,” Neville said.

Luna shot him a brilliant smile as she took the Smashing Stickum and spread it across the floor inside of the chalk circle.  “You’re right, Neville.  Just watch.”

They all did as she said and watched as the little blonde witch finished with the paste and began pulling an assortment of items out of her bag.  Then she set to work.

Hermione couldn’t help but whistle in appreciation at the end result.  

The ground immediately around the sticky cloud was strewn with sharp little pebbles and bits of glass shards.  The Death Eater would be required to jump off of their shoes to get over them.  

And then they would crash into the disillusioned ropes coated with more of the Smashing Stickum.  

“There, a nice little web,” Luna said proudly.

“Very nice.  With luck they’ll be unable to reach their wand when they’re stuck on the ropes,” Hermione said.

“This won’t work if there’s more than one,” Pansy pointed out.

“This will at least slow them down,” Hermione answered.  “If there’s more than one we’ll deal with that.

“Do you think we should go tell a teacher now?” Theo asked.

“No,” Hermione said coldly. “They haven’t listened to us so far.  Why would they start now?  McGonagall seems convinced that we know nothing, so let’s get proof.  Luna, Neville, I want you two to find a hiding place near here and keep an eye on the door.  There are several alcoves that are more than big enough for two.  Theo, Pansy and I will go find an empty classroom and keep an eye on the map.  We’ll use our journals.  Sound good?”

Everyone agreed and so they split up.  Hermione and the two Slytherins found a classroom that wasn’t too far away and spread the map out on one of the desks.

“Any word from Draco and the others?” Pansy asked.

“I’ll check on them.”

_ Draco, found anything? _

_ Well, someone definitely came through here recently.  We found a few spots where someone recently used magic to widen the passage.   What about you? _

_ Someone is in the Shifting Room. _

_ WHAT?!? _

_ Don’t worry.  Luna set a trap and we’re waiting far away.  Don’t tell the others.  Especially Harry.  Merlin only knows what he’ll do if he knows Death Eaters are likely in the castle. _

_ You should go contact the Order.  Don’t wait for Fred. _

_ No.  We have no proof.  It could be a student in there, though it’s not Creevy or Mclaggen.  We looked them up on the map. _

_ Bloody hell, Hermione.  We can’t do this all ourselves!  My mother would believe you, as would Sirius! _

_ I know, but they aren’t the only ones in the Order.  I may legally be an adult but most still see anyone still at Hogwarts as a child, no matter their age.   _

_ Fine, just be careful and if you can’t contact the Order tell me and I’ll do it. _

_ Oh, alright, but you be careful as well. _

_ Will do. _

“They’re still in the tunnel, but there are signs that someone was through it recently,” she said to the expectant faces of Theo and Pansy.

“Has to be a Death Eater in the Shifting Room then,” Pansy said.

“Or it’s the Dark Lord himself,” Theo suggested.

Hermione shook her head, “No, I don’t think he’d sneak into the castle.  He’s more likely to attack us outright.”

“Theo may be right, Hermione.  If he thinks we don’t know that a horcrux is here he may try to sneak in and get it with no one the wiser.  He is a Slytherin and while we have no trouble with confrontations we do try to get what we want using the path of least resistance.”

“Point.  Still, he’s got no reinforcements in the school.  He has to know Snape isn’t here tonight.  If-”

BOOM!

An explosion rent through the air from the direction of the Shifting Room, quickly followed by a scream of rage.

Hermione didn’t even think, she drew her wand and took off running.  Pansy and Theo were right on her heels.

What they found in corridor outside where the Shifting Room once was made them all gasp in shock.  

The entire corridor was nothing but smoke and rubble, the wall between it and the Shifting Room had obviously been blown out from inside.  Luna’s sticky rope trap hung in tatters and the Smashing Stickum on the floor was covered in rubble.  

“NEVILLE!” Pansy screamed, running towards where a pale hand poked out from beneath debris.  She began scrambling at the rocks, until Neville’s head was revealed.  

“Help me!” she wailed, trying to lift a large chunk of rock off his chest.

Hermione stood frozen, staring at the unmoving face of her old friend.  She had told them to stay here.  It had been her idea to not wait in their classroom.  If Neville or Luna was-

“HERMIONE!  Get over here!  Help Pansy!” Theo shouted, gripping the large stone with his silver hand and lifting it up, his entire body straining with the effort.

That got her moving.  She quickly joined Pansy and helped her pull Neville out before Theo let the stone fall back down.

“Where’s Luna?” she heard her mouth say, though she didn’t remember telling it to work.

“Hermione?” 

Her head whipped towards the source of the small voice and found Luna lying against a soot covered wall, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead.

“Luna!” 

She rushed to the other girl, leaving Neville in the hands of Pansy and Theo.  She couldn’t face finding out if he was or wasn’t breathing.  “How do you feel?  Where does it hurt?”

Luna batted her hands away.  “Just-just my ribs.  Go.  It was Voldemort, Bellatrix, and a few others.  You need to tell Mcgonagall.”

“But-”

“Go!”

“Luna’s right,” Theo said, pushing Pansy out of the way and levitating a shallowly breathing Neville.  “Go warn McGonagall.  We’ll get these two to Madam Pomfrey.”

Guilt pricked at her, but she didn’t argue.  If the Dark Lord stormed into the Great Hall right now…

That thought sent her running, even as she sent out a thought to Draco.

_ It’s Voldemort.  They’re here.  Tell the Order. _

Fuck.  Got it.  We’re coming back.

She didn’t even slow down as she felt the coin in her pocket burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's sort of the same cliffhanger as last chapter. But now all our timelines are synced up.
> 
> And, in case there is any confusion. No, Voldemort and Company did not use a Vanishing Cabinet. He actually did sneak in, as Pansy suggested. If his horcrux was still there and undiscovered he wasn't going to risk the Order realizing it was there. The situation in canon was quite different.


	63. It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Marauders and their allies react to the news that Voldemort is in Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks as always to my amazing betas: Juli and Cathy, ya'll rock!

Harry, Ron, and Ginger all hissed and stopped farther down the secret passage; digging into their pockets for the fake galleons.

“Don’t bother,” Draco said, hurrying to catch up with them.

“Why?” Harry asked sharply.

“Voldemort is in the castle.  We have to go. Now,” He turned to run back up the tunnel, but Ron grabbed his arm.

“No, we’re almost at the Shrieking Shack.  It will be faster if we go on and fly back.  C’mon!”

Ron took off running, Ginger a step behind him.  Draco looked over at Harry who shrugged, drew his wand, and followed.

Bloody Gryffindors.  Who knew what was waiting in that shack?  What if the Dark Lord had left behind a guard?

Fuck.

He took off running after his foolhardy friends even as he wished he was with Hermione, rather than them.

XXX

Hermione tore through the halls of Hogwarts.  Skidding around corners and practically tumbling down staircases.  She had one close call as she jumped over one of the trick steps, almost breaking her skull open as her feet failed to land.  

Luckily she wasn’t nearly so clumsy when it came to spell casting and a quick cushioning charm saved her from injury.

“Damn, that was close.”

She pushed herself to her feet and pushed her hair out of her face.  It was still too short to tie back and she was beginning to wonder if she should just cut it super short again.  Then it couldn’t get in her way.

But now wasn’t the time to think about haircuts.

She took off once more and didn’t slow down until she hit the Entrance Hall.  A quick glance around showed her that nothing was out of place.  Just the normal sounds of the entire school eating their meal in the adjacent Great Hall.

She took a deep breath and smoothed down her robes.  If she just went charging in there she would cause a panic.  

And that would do nothing but help Voldemort.  Why hadn’t she gone straight to McGonagall when they saw the Whomping Willow wasn’t moving?  Then Neville and Luna wouldn’t be hurt and maybe all of the younger students would be safely away from what might very well become a battlefield.

She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind.  She could beat herself up later, right now she needed to try and fix it.

Hermione quickly crossed the Entrance Hall and didn’t even pause at the entrance to the Great Hall.  Her wand was still out as she walked quickly up to the Head Table.  As she went the students slowly quieted, all of them staring at her in curiosity.

She came to a stop in front of Professor McGonagall.  The other professors had put their utensils down and were looking at her with concern.

“May I help you, Miss Black?”  Professor McGonagall asked, her lips were pursed in disapproval.  

Hermione couldn’t quite figure out why the Headmistress was determined to treat the New Marauder's like children, but it was getting bloody annoying.  

“The Order was misinformed about the last horcrux.  Voldemort is in the castle.  Along with several of his Death Eaters.”

You could have heard a pin drop.  Hermione took that moment to raise her wand and cast a silencing spell over the Great Hall.  So, when the screams of panic started a second later Voldemort wouldn’t be alerted.  

Professor Mcgonagall stared at her coldly, “Did you have to break the news this way?  Panic will not help.”

“No, but you weren’t listening when Harry and I tried to tell you the Order was wrong.  Right now Fred Weasley should be telling them.  Hopefully they can get here in time.  But we need to get the children to safety.”

McGonagall’s lips pursed as Hermione called her fellow students children, but choose to ignore it.

Rather smart of her.

“Hagrid, please get them quiet,” the Headmistress ordered.

“SILENCE!” the gamekeeper roared as he stood up.

Instantly the Hall quieted and hundreds of pairs of eyes looked up at the Head Table.

“Very good.  Now, Prefects, I need you to escort the students.  Miss Black, was he upstairs or downstairs?”

“Upstairs.”

“Slytherin and Ravenclaw Prefects, please escort your students down to the Slytherin Common Room.  Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Prefects take your students down to the Hufflepuff Common Room.”

When no one moved she clapped her hands quickly, “Now!  And that includes you Miss Black!”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the older witch, but didn’t disagree.  She was a prefect.  She’d see her charges to safety and then she’d come back out.  They couldn’t force her to stay in hiding, she was of age, after all.

XXX

Ginny skidded to an abrupt stop right behind her brother, opening her mouth to complain even as he held up his hand to silence.

She scowled, but bit her tongue.  Dimly she could hear what he did now that air was no longer rushing past her ears - voices.

They were too faint to make out, but there were definitely people in the shack.

Had to be Death Eaters.

Ron gestured for them to wait and then crept forward quietly.  He reached the end of the tunnel and peered through a crack in the old plank door.  While he observed what was going on Ginny looked over at Harry.  At first glance he appeared cool and collected, but she could see the tension around his eyes.

She glanced behind to look at Dragon. 

He was shifting from foot to foot and the fingers of his left hand were fidgeting, but his right hand was steady on his wand and the look in his eyes was slightly terrifying.  She rather pitied any Death Eaters ahead that would try to stop him from getting back to Hermione.

A small noise made her head whip around and her wand come up, but it was just Ron returning.  He gestured for all of them to huddle close.

“There are seven or eight people.  Three look to be werewolves.  None have wands drawn or paying attention.  They’re young, not much older than us,” Ron whispered.

Harry frowned, “We can take them, we have surprise on our side.”

Dragon nodded and Ginny did the same.  No snot-nosed Death Eater was a match for anyone that had studied under Padfoot, Moony, or Alianore.   Especially when they had surprise on their side.

“Alright, Harry, you take point,” Ron ordered.  “Draco, you and I will flank him.  Gin, I want you covering the three of us.  Try to stick a shield over Harry when he charges in.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes, “What?  Are you trying to stick me out of the way?”

Ron shook his head quickly, “No, you’re just the fastest, making it easier for you to cover multiple angles.”

She stared at her brother for a second, silently wondering if he was just throwing griffonshit at her.  But he did have a point.  The boys were all fast, but she was faster.

“Fine.”

Harry reached over and gave her hand a tight squeeze, “Let’s go.  We’ve got to get back to the others.”

“Point,” Dragon said curtly as he pulled off his outer robe and stuck it in his drawstring bag.  

They took up positions by the door.  Harry glanced at all of them, making sure they were ready before taking a deep breath and kicking the door in.

XXX

Fred tore out of the sitting room, nearly running over Charlie in his haste.  He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and his breath fighting to move his lungs.

Late.

They were going to be too late.

Padfoot was still issuing orders for patrols, but it was too late.

Much too late.

Fred skidded to a halt beside Skeeter - who was trying to fade into the background even as her eyes and ears took in every detail - and held up his fake galleon, showing the glaring words etched into them.

“It’s too late!  Hogwarts is under attack!”

Screams and shouts filled the kitchen as everyone began to yell things at once, that was until Padfoot’s voice cut through them all.

“SILENCE!!!!”

Amazingly, silence descended, although the tension in the room was so thick it could have been cut with a knife.

“Flyers, floo to the Hog’s Breath!  Secure Hogsmeade and then head to Hogwarts!  Now!”

Fred nodded and turned to go, even as Padfoot continued to shout out orders to the others, getting them organized into small groups to apparate to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds.  

When he returned to the sitting room he found his brothers and the others already using the floo.  He stopped and checked his person, ensuring that his drawstring bag was still tied securely to his belt and that his wand was within easy reach.

“Got everything?”

Skeeter’s voice interrupted his mental checklist and he looked up at the older witch.  

“Yes, what are you doing in here?”

She snorted delicately, “Black doesn’t trust me.  I was told to stay here and I refuse.  I can barely handle a broom, but that’s alright.  I’ll just transform and hide in your robes.”

Fred gaped at her, “No!  Are you insane?!?  This is a battle!  You’re a reporter!  You can’t just-”

She cut him off.  “You owe me a life debt!  I’ll consider it cleared if I accompany you and live through the battle.  I’ll also give you a percentage of any royaltys earned from my book on the Dark Lord and the war.”

Fred’s mind raced.  It would be stupid to take her along, but he did owe her a debt.  And George would come back from wherever his soul currently resided and haunt Fred for turning down the chance to make a profit.

“Fine, fifty percent”

“Ten.”

“Forty-five.”

“Twenty.”

“Forty-five and I tell you about the New Marauders.  Things only we know.  Inside scoop.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Things only you know?”

“Well, most of it was from Hermione, but yes, things only we know.”

“Fine, but if it’s not worth it we’ll renegotiate.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

They clasped hands and then Skeeter changed forms and crawled into one of Fred’s pockets just in time for him to grab some floo powder and follow Bill through the fire.

XXX

Pansy ran ahead of Theo, Luna, and Neville, throwing open the door to the Infirmary and making Madam Pomfrey come bustling out of her office.

“What’s going on?”

“Madam Pomfrey!  There are Death Eaters!  Neville and Luna, they’re hurt!”

The mediwitch began firing questions as she moved around the room, gathering medical supplies.  Pansy did her best to answer them, but was thankfully spared from answering too many by Luna hobbling into the room with Theo and a floating Neville a few minutes later.

Madam Pomfrey ushered them to a bed and cast several protections on the door.  “You all will have to stay here, if Death Eaters are loose in the Castle I can’t have you wandering around.”

Theo gently lowered Neville onto a hospital bed and headed for the door.  “You can’t keep me here, I’m seventeen, so is Pansy.”

“No, Theo, I’m staying.  I won’t leave Neville,” Pansy said moving to Neville’s bed, helping the scowling mediwitch by removing his outer robes.  Luna went to sit on a nearby bed, not nearly as injured as the Gryffindor boy.

“Fine, go running off by yourself.  But if you get injured off by yourself or if we get attacked while I’m distracted it will be on your head!”  Madam Pomfrey stated as she began casting diagnostic spells on Neville.

Theo scowled and opened his mouth to complain, but Luna cut him off.

“She’s right.  If Voldemort comes here we’ll be finished.  Unless Pansy has another trick hidden in her bag.”

“I don’t.  Nothing really good, anyways.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed and his silver hand clenched in anger, the leather in his black glove squeaking as his mind raced.  He looked at the unconscious Neville, injured Luna, bustling mediwitch, and nervous Pansy.  She knew what he was thinking, she knew that he knew she still wasn’t well.  She had never been fast with a wand, but now she was even slower.  She’d be no use if a Death Eater attacked while Madam Pomfrey was distracted.

“Fine!  I’ll stand guard!”  Theo stomped over to the door, closed it most of the way, and then stood there, peering out at the corridor with his wand drawn.

Pansy let out a sigh of relief now that Theo was staying.  Her pocket burned and she yanked out the fake galleon to see the message change from ‘They’re Here’ to ‘Order is Coming’.

She gave Neville’s limp hand a squeeze as Madam Pomfrey poured a potion down his throat.

The Order was coming, hopefully they would be in time and no one would die this time.

A flicker of darkness skittered along the edge of her vision and she tensed, terrified that the nightmares would return.  She gripped Neville’s hand tighter, focusing her eyes on the ring on her left finger.

It would be alright, it had to be.  Madam Pomfrey would fix Neville, her friends and the Order would defeat the Death Eaters, it would all work out.

It had to.

XXX

Blaise did his best to project an aura of uncaring aloofness even as his heart beat rapidly in his chest.

Where the hell was Theo?

Pansy and Draco were also missing, so he guessed Theo was with them.  But that did nothing to make him feel better.  The last time the Dark Lord had been around Theo had been with them and he’d still lost his hand.

No, he’d have to go find him and keep an eye on him himself.

The Slytherin common room was packed with Ravenclaws and Slytherins.  Not a single place to sit was empty and most students looked quite worried, though a few seemed rather excited.  They made Blaise sick.  Why would anyone be excited to have a maniac inside the castle?

The prefects were all huddled by the entrance looking nervous and unsure.  Even Daphne, normally unruffled by all things, kept glancing over at her younger sister with fear.

“Well, are you going to just stand there all night?”

Tracey’s words surprised Blaise and made him jump.  He hadn’t even heard her walk up.

“No, I’m just debating how best to do this.”

“We’re missing over half our year.  Greg and Vince have been gone since Christmas.  Pansy, Draco, and Theo are off with their Gryffindor friends.  Millie was pulled from school after the graveyard attack last week.  It’s just you and me and we’re both of age.  They can’t stop us from leaving.”

“Daphne may try to stop us.”

“She won’t.  Not while Pansy is missing.  Those two are good friends.  And look over there at Cho Chang.”

Tracey pointed to a Ravenclaw girl across the room whom Blaise recognized from quidditch games.  “What about her?”

“I hear her boyfriend is in the Order.  She’s a seventh year.  Do you really think she wants to sit here with the babies?  Same for her friend, Marietta Edgecomb.  Edgecomb’s family worked in the Ministry.  They all died at Godric’s Hollow last week.  Bet she wants revenge.  And they’re not the only ones with a bone to pick with You-Know-Who and his followers.”

“So, you’re suggesting I rally the troops to go out and fight Death Eaters?  All because my boyfriend is missing?”

“Yes.”

He looked down at his old friend.  Her eyes were flat and hard.  It wasn’t hard for him to imagine why.  Both of her parents may have been upstanding Slytherins, but her father had still been a muggleborn.  Death Eaters didn’t take well to purebloods marrying muggleborns.  Even if her mother hadn’t been disowned for it.

“What about the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs?”

She snorted, “What?  You don’t really think that Black will stay in hiding, do you?  I’d bet my entire inheritance that she’s already halfway to wherever the rest of them are.”

His lips pursed in a wry smile, she was right.  There was no way Black was going to stay in hiding.  She’d already flown across half the British Isles to rescue her brother from the Dark Lord with only Ginny Weasley for assistance.  Escaping the Hufflepuff Common Room would be a piece of cake.

He pushed off of the wall he’d been leaning against and straightened his robes.  “Alright, shall we do this?”

“Yes, let’s.”

Blaise glanced around the room and found a likely end table.  A quick spell and the table was galloping over to him, drawing everyone’s eyes.  It squatted down to the floor like a camel and he stepped onto it before allowing it to slowly rise so that he was far above everyone else.

Putting on a winning smile he doffed his wizarding cap and gave the room an exquisitely formal bow.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Ravenclaws and Slytherins, Loyal Students of Hogwarts, may I have your attention?”

The words were pointless, he already had everyone’s attention.  He could see the Head Boy glaring at him, but that meant nothing to Blaise.  He may not have been a prefect - no, Draco had gotten that little honor - but he held more power in the school than any other student.

It paid well to be loved.  Having enemies was for idiots - or for heroes like Potter.  Blaise was no hero, but he’d face Morgana herself if she returned to life and stood between him and Theo.

So now it was time to rally his army, for he preferred not to face evil alone.  With that thought in mind he girded his soul and prepared himself to spend every ounce of currency he had with the students of Hogwarts.

By Merlin he was going to leave this common room with every single student over the age of seventeen or he wasn’t a Zabini.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of jumping around in this chapter, but there were many things to be done and check in on. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	64. For Hogwarts!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione attempts to sneak out of the Hufflepuff Common Room. Draco and the others deal with the Death Eaters within the Shrieking Shack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my awesome betas. Ya'll are the best!

Hermione ushered in the last student and then turned to check to make sure no more students were on the other side of the barrels.  There were no more students so she nodded in satisfaction and turned back to Amelia Schroeder, the Head Girl.  

“That’s the last of them.”

“Good.  We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

Hermione nodded in agreement and pulled the door most of the way shut.  She’d wait a few minutes and then slip back out when no one was looking.

The Hufflepuff Common room was a very cozy place, even with every available surface holding students.  She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination or not, but it seemed as if the room felt no discomfort at holding twice as many students as it should.  Perhaps Helga Hufflepuff had known that an underground common room could be a bunker of sorts if Hogwarts was attacked - something not unheard of a thousand years ago.  She’d certainly made it much harder to get into than any of the other common rooms.

She leaned casually by the entrance and watched Schroder go to speak with the other prefects.  Of course Neville was missing, but the others all had very serious and determined expressions on their faces.  Even Thomas Criston, the most incompetent prefect in all of Hogwarts, seemed to take the situation very seriously.  

She waited another moment, checked around the room to ensure that no one was paying attention, and slowly pulled the entrance open.

She was just about to slip through the opening when a drawling voice drew her attention.

“Off to play hero, Black?”

How had she not noticed Mclaggen and Creevy sitting right by the door?

“A notice-me not charm,” Creevy supplied with a brilliant smile.  Apparently he knew she’d be wondering how they snuck up on her.

“No, I’m not off to play hero.  I’m off to make sure my friends - who are trapped out there with the Death Eaters - are safe.  And I’m seventeen, Mcgonagall can’t stop me.  Nor can you.”

Mclaggen snorted, “I don’t plan to stop you.  Hell, I want to help you.  If we don’t get this all settled tonight then we’ll have trouble with our classes and I refuse to ruin my second chance.  I plan to be an auror, you know, like your father.”

She stared at Mclaggen for a moment and then turned her attention to Creevy.  “And you?”

He grinned and held up his camera, “Harry Potter is going to be fighting You-Know-Who!  Just think of the picture opportunities!”

She had no words for that reason, though she did understand just how important pictures could be.  Still, Creevy was only a fifth-year.  He couldn’t be seventeen.  He didn’t know enough to protect himself and he was a muggle-born.  He’d be dead as soon as a Death Eater looked at him.

“No, Creevy, I can’t allow you to come.”  She turned to address Mclaggen.  “I won’t argue about you coming, but there is no way I’ll let Creevy come.  He’s underage and doesn’t have near enough training.”

“But-” Creevy started before being cut-off by Mclaggen.  “You’re right, but if you don’t let him go with me he’ll come out anyways.  He’s a Gryffindor through and through.”

Hermione scowled.

“Who’s a Gryffindor through and through?”

Apparently they had drawn attention, at least from their fellow Gryffindors.  Dean had walked up with Seamus, Lavender, and Pavarti.  As well as a few of the seventh-year Gryffindors that Hermione really didn’t know well.

Creevy shot Dean a brilliant smile, “I’m a Gryffindor through and through!”

“Yep, Creevy is the most Gryffindorish of our year,” Michael Phelps, the fifth-year Gryffindor prefect, asserted.

Hermione sighed, “Creevy, if you leave with me then who will watch your brother and the younger students?”

His smile dimmed a bit.  “Why, the other older students.”

Hermione looked around at the slowly growing crowd.  A few of the older Hufflepuffs had also joined and they looked very interested in what was going on.

So much for sneaking out.  Damn Mclaggen and Creevy.

Surprisingly it was Lavender that chimed in next.  

“Creevy, you think we’re going to stick around to babysit when our future is on the line?  You may be the most Gryffindorish of your year, but we were ALL sorted into Gryffindor for a reason.  I have a stake in the future as well.  I may not be seventeen until next month but there’s no way I’m going to sit around and do nothing.  And you,” she pointed at Hermione, “what do you think you’re doing, sneaking off?  Oh, don’t you deny it.  We have just as much right to go out and help as you do.”

“Yeah, we’re not blind.  We can see that Ron, Harry, and Neville aren’t here,” Dean said.

“Neither is Ginny!” Creevy hurriedly pointed out.  He was really determined to go out and fight.  “And she’s no older than I am!”

“Hogwarts is our home as well,” Hannah Abbott, the sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect, declared.  “We’re not going to sit here and do nothing while it’s under attack.”

“Yes, we may not seek out confrontation, but we refuse to let our friends, classmates and parents fight on their own,” Ernie Macmillan, the sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect said passionately.

The other Hufflepuffs that had gathered around murmured their agreement, strong expressions of determination etched into their faces.

Hermione’s mind raced.  There was no way she could keep everyone here and safe.  No way at all.  Keeping a Gryffindor from doing something brave was like asking Peeves to behave.  Same with the Hufflepuffs.  They tended to be overlooked, but they were extremely determined and loyal.  There was no way they were going to sit around while their friends and family fought.

“Fine.  Anyone fifth year or above can go with me, but we need to leave a Prefect behind to keep control of the younger students.  I doubt a Death Eater can get in here, but we need to be safe.”

“I’ll stay,” Criston volunteered.  “If that’s alright with Amelia.” He looked to the Head Girl, who thought for a moment and then nodded.

“Yes, Thomas, you can stay.  Don’t let anyone in that can’t knock on the barrels themselves.  No matter what they say.  Got it?”

Criston nodded firmly, “Got it.”

“Good.  Now,” she looked at Hermione expectantly, “what’s the plan?”

Hermione looked around at the large crowd of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors and felt true nervousness for the first time in years.  She wasn’t just rushing off on her own this time.  No, everyone here was willing to follow her and expected her to tell them what to do.

That was almost scarier than anything the Death Eaters could do to her.

She took a deep, solid breath and let her mind race.  She knew how Mcgonagall would react to the Death Eaters.  The teachers would hunt down Voldemort and his followers inside the castle.  She wished she had the map, but she’d stupidly left it up in that classroom after the Shifting Room had exploded.

The Order would have to come in from outside.  She assumed the floo network had been cut off so they’d come in from the front gate.  No, maybe not all.  A lot of the Order members were good fliers and Padfoot believed in covering all avenues.  He’d likely have some floo or apparate into Hogsmeade and fly towards Hogwarts.  

That left the Forbidden Forest.

So that’s where they needed to go.  Draco, Harry, Ron and Ginny would get to the Shack and fly back.  Just in case they were fighting she wouldn’t speak to Draco, but she was sure he would tell her when they were on their brooms.

They could join them on the grounds.  They had to keep Voldemort from getting reinforcements.

“Alright,” she began, drawing everyone’s attention to her, “here’s what we’re going to do….”

XXX

Tracey charged down the dungeon corridor.  Blaise was running right beside her and there were dozens of feet behind them.  She didn’t know how he could command such loyalty and respect, but that he did.  Perhaps it had been the final question he’d offered in his speech:

“Will you allow a resurrected abomination to steal that which should rightly be yours?”

It didn’t matter whether you were a Ravenclaw or a Slytherin, all of them believed that there was something out there to be earned.  Whether through wits or cunning.  But there was no way to take it if the world was destroyed by a madman.  

True, there had been a few that had refused to help, with sly expressions on their faces and lies in their hearts.  They had professed they only wanted to stay and protect the younger students, but Blaise had seen the truth.

As had those that followed him.

Tracey’s father had been a muggle-born, but through her pureblood mother she knew every old magical family.  It didn’t matter if they were purebloods or half-bloods, she knew just as well as any of the students whose families had sympathized and fought for the Dark Lord in the last war.  

Her younger brother, Frederick, was now in charge of the students that had remained in the common room.  The traitorous older students had been tied up, frozen, and then stunned.  They also had a constant guard standing over them.  

Blaise had tried to get only the seventeen-year-olds to go, but he’d spoken too well.  It hadn’t helped when some fifth-year Ravenclaw had pointed out that the fifth-year Luna Lovegood was already out there fighting.  So, with the exception of the Death Eater loyalists, three years of students were now following her and Blaise into danger.

Tracey didn’t even quite know why she was following.  She hated the idea of putting herself in danger, but she also knew that there was no help for it.  Blaise and Theo were her best friends in the entire world.  There was no way she’d let them face danger without her.

They left the dungeon and entered the cellar proper only come to an abrupt halt.

Coming up from where the Hufflepuff Common Room was located was no other than Hermione Black and a few dozen Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.  The two groups stood there in absolute silence for a moment, until Mclaggen broke the silence by laughing.

“See, Black?  No one who can is going to sit this fight out.  We all have too much at stake here.”

Black wrinkled her nose and let out a huff.  “I see that.  So, who’s in charge of this little group?”

Everyone pointed at Blaise, who groaned and said, “I am.”

“Okay.  Going upstairs?  Theo, Pansy, Luna, and Neville are in the Hospital Wing.”

Well, that was helpful.  But Tracey doubted they needed everyone to go upstairs.  Not if Theo was just in the Hospital Wing.  Though why he was there was a bit worrying.

“Yes.  Where are you going?”

“To stop Death Eater reinforcements from reaching the castle from the Forbidden Forest.”

Blaise nodded thoughtfully.  “I don’t think everyone needs to go upstairs.”  He turned to address the students behind him.  “Seventh and Fifth-years, join the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.  Try to keep them from doing anything stupid. Sixth-years, stay with me.”

Black nibbled at her lower lip thoughtfully for a moment.  After a time she gave a sharp nod, “Yes, this will work.  Blaise, when you see Theo ask him to retrieve the Map.”

Blaise frowned, “Map?  What map?”

“Never you mind, just ask him,  He’ll explain it.  Now-” A loud crash, followed by multiple screams echoed through the stone corridors and down to them.  Black pulled out her wand and began moving upstairs, “Let’s go!”

A half second later Mclaggen raced behind her, letting out a cry of, “For Hogwarts!”

A few students took up his cry, including that little camera boy, and raced after Mclaggen.  Then Hannah Abbott - who had always reminded Tracey of a mouse - raised her own wand and shouted out, “What are you waiting for?  For Hogwarts!”

“FOR HOGWARTS!”

With that everyone took off, including the fifth and seventh-year Slytherins.  They continued to chant, “For Hogwarts!” as they ran.

Their words echoed within the very stones long after they had all left.

Tracey’s heart was pounding in her chest and she had the very unusual desire to race off and do something stupid.  

“Well, are we going as well?” Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw know-it-all asked.  Her pale eyes were shimmering with emotion and her wand was drawn.  

Looking around Tracey could see similar expressions on all of the Ravenclaws’ faces.  Even their fellow Slytherin, Daphne, was looking very excited.

Who knew Gryffindor rashness was catching?

“Yes, let’s go.  Everyone, wands out, eyes open.  Let’s not be stupid,” Blaise said.

There was a chorus of ‘yeses’ and he smiled brilliantly at them.  “Now, let’s go!  For Hogwarts!”

“For Hogwarts!!!”

XXX

The door exploded inwards and the spells began flying.  Three Death Eaters went down from the first volley of spells, but that still left five of them behind and they recovered from the surprise attack rather quickly.

Draco moved off to the left, giving Harry space to maneuver even as he threw up a shield, blocking a nasty looking orange spell.

“Oh!  No you don’t!” Ginger’s shout came just as she slammed a broken chair into a werewolf as he leapt for Harry.  It wasn’t a full moon, but the young man was half-transformed.  He hit the ground and rolled before springing back up.  He grinned, revealing elongated canines and tensed to spring again.

Draco swerved out of the way of a spell and then pulled a page out of Hermione’s book.  He cast an explosion spell at the ceiling, sending the broken wood tumbling down on top of the werewolf just as he lept off the ground.

“DRACO!  Watch out!”

Ron’s scream made Draco whip around and raise his wand, “ _Protego_!”

And not a moment too soon.

A silver knife bounced harmlessly off the shield just as it went up.

His heart pounding in his chest he swooped down and picked up the dagger with his left hand even as he sent a minor tripping jinx at the thrower.  

That got him.

The Death Eater had raised a shield over his torso, never thinking he’d be hit with something so simple and stupid.

He fell to ground with a thud and Draco was on him in a moment.  

“ _Immobulus_!”

The Death Eater stiffened and froze under his dark robes.  A quick look around showed that Harry, Ron, and Ginger had dealt with the other Death Eaters.

Taking a moment, he glanced down at the dagger in his hand.  It was an ancient piece.  A Roman pugio from the third or fourth century A.D.  It was certainly not a throwing dagger.

Curious about who would be so stupid as to throw a dagger that had been in no way designed for throwing he reached down and yanked off the Death Eater’s mask.

His heart stopped.

“Gr-Gr-GREG?!?!?”

His old friend’s face was immobile, but anger and hate blazed from his eyes.

Draco didn’t wait, he quickly took Greg’s wand and then tied him up before letting him move.

“How-how could you Greg?!?  We were friends!  You tried to kill me!”

Greg scowled, “Of course I tried to kill you!  You betrayed the Dark Lord!  You betrayed ME!  Leaving me and Vincent behind while you ran off with your new best friend!”

Draco was flabbergasted.  Partly because he’d never heard Greg say so much at one time, but also due to the fact that Greg’s words were true.

Draco’d hadn’t even considered asking Greg or Vince to join him in defying the Dark Lord.

“What?  Draco Malfoy at a loss for words?” Greg spat.

“But-”

He was cut off by Greg rolling to one side and spitting quite nastily on Draco’s boot.

Draco stared at the nasty spittle running down his polished black boots.  It was like the stain on his soul. How had he not even offered them a chance to roll down the hill with him?  Would they have preferred to follow him instead of Voldemort?  Or would they have been traitors?  Following their parents over him?

He didn’t know.

Maybe that was why he hadn’t asked.  Unlike Theo he didn’t know where their true loyalties lay.

He took a steadying breath.  “I’m sorry, Greg.  But nothing stopped you from standing up like my parents did.  I didn’t ask them to join me in defiance either.  And Theo was the one that asked me.  Back at the end of fifth year.  And now you’ve taken the Mark, haven’t you?”  He reached down and yanked up the left sleeve.  The Dark Mark stared back at him.  Etched darkly into Greg’s pale skin.  “You joined him and then you just tried to kill me.  So, I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”  He heart ached as he pointed his wand at his old companion.  “ _Stupefy_!”

The mini-mountain of a young main grew slack and Draco gritted his teeth to stop odd emotions from boiling up.  He’d known Greg had fled with his parents, but he hadn’t spared him much thought.  Maybe he’d been forced to take the Mark, but no one had forced him to attack Draco.  Just like no one had forced Vince to join in the Battle of Malfoy Manor.  

Draco held up the pugio and looked at it.  It was and old dueling dagger.  Not the best in style as it was meant for stabbing.  An examination of the hilt showed it to be goblin made, with the Goyle family crest etched into the pommel.

Looking down he could see a sheath tied onto Greg’s belt.  Quickly he took it and tied it to his own belt.  He’d return the dagger on the day the Goyle family earned it back.  But, until then, the Malfoy’s would keep it safe and use it well.

“Draco, you alright?”  Harry’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Oh, yes, just, well, I found Greg.”

Harry looked down at the unconscious boy and winced.  “That couldn’t have been easy.”

Draco sheathed the pugio.  “It wasn’t.  We all done here?”

“Yes,” Ron said, coming to join them.  “They’re all stunned, tied up, and we took their wands.  Well, all except for the werewolf you dropped the ceiling on.  A beam went right through him.”

Draco’s breath caught.  He’d killed someone.  He was a murderer.  Images of his father, his aunt, and so many other murderers flashed through him.

No.

He wasn’t like them.

He couldn’t be like them.

A small hand was placed on his arm and his eyes focused on it.  The hand had a smattering of freckles on it.  A Weasley hand.  No Weasley was a murderer.  No Weasley would consort with a murderer.  “Hey, Dragon, take a deep breath.  The werewolf was Barrow.  You know, the one that fed girls the forbidden fruit.”

“Yeah, relax mate,” Ron said comfortingly.  “We found Montague as well.  He was stunned when we first came in, but he was also a werewolf.  We’re guessing they joined Voldemort when he broke everyone out of Azkaban.  Likely they were given to Greyback to bite as punishment for the forbidden fruit.”  He wrinkled his nose, “Even Death Eaters have some limits it appears.”

“Besides, the death was an accident and he was trying to kill me,” Harry stated.

Draco nodded, trying to draw some comfort from these facts.  It was still hard.  Had his soul been damaged?  Even though it had been an accident?  

He had to know.

_Hermione?_

_What’s wrong?  Are you alright?_

_Yes, there were Death Eaters in the shack.  We took them out and, well, I, uh, accidentally killed one.  I’m a murderer._

He could hear her sigh, feel it brush against his skin.  As if they were still cuddling up in their empty classroom.

_Draco, you’re not a murderer.  I’m guessing he was trying to kill you.  No, you’re not becoming like Voldemort.  Trust me, I did a lot of research on horcruxes.  Intent is what matters.  Now, I can’t talk._

_Why?  What’s wrong?_

_Voldemort seems to want to destroy Hogwarts.  He’s inside fighting the teachers and he called for reinforcements.  Order isn’t here yet and we-_

Her thought was cut off and he felt his heart stop.

_HERMIONE?!?!?!?!_

_There are bloody GIANTS!!!!!_

_We’re on our way!_

Draco opened his eyes and looked at his three friends.  They were all staring at him with worry.

“Draco, what’s wrong?  Why do I feel panic and fear coming from Hermione?” Harry asked, his face tight with worry.

Draco yanked open his drawstring bag and pulled out his broom.  “The Order hasn’t arrived yet.  Voldemort is fighting the teachers inside the castle.  Death Eater reinforcements are coming.  Including bloody giants!”

As he spoke the other three pulled out their own brooms and no more words needed to be spoken.  They turned as one and raced for the door to the shack.  Yanking it open they ran outside and sprang onto their brooms.

Soaring into the sky Draco leaned low over his broom and urged it to go faster.  The others right on his tail.

Time to get back to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first bit of action has occurred. Our heroes dealt quite handily with the baby Death Eaters and werewolves, but will they find the older, more experienced Death Eaters quite so easy to deal with? Not to mention the giants? I doubt it. 
> 
> I've had a few people ask, but, yes, this is the final battle. Most things will be wrapped up here. And, yes, people will die.
> 
> Enjoy!


	65. Giants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred arrives in Hogsmeade. Blaise finds Theo. Hermione confronts a Giant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my amazing betas!

Fred stepped quickly from the fireplace and reached up to check on Skeeter.  She was still there, hiding under his collar.

He still wasn’t entirely sure about having her come along, but it felt like the right thing to do.  Especially as he did owe her a life debt and he rather disliked being indebted to people.

“Oi, Fred, you’re with Diggory here.  Stick together and fly straight to Hogwarts.” Bill called out from the center of the grungy little pub.  

It still surprised Fred that the owner of this place was Albus Dumbledore’s brother.  It was just so...well, grim.  Very unlike the Headmaster’s office.  That room had always been a feast for the eyes.  George and he had visited whenever Mcgonagall had found them too exasperating.  

Grief flashed through him at the memory of his time at Hogwarts.  Would the pain never end.

“Alright there, Weasley?”  Diggory asked, looking at him with concern.

Fred pushed his ancient thoughts away and gave a sharp nod, “Yes, and go ahead and call me Fred.  Too many Weasley’s running around.”

Hopefully this would also help him get over his constant need to say he wasn’t Fred.  He wanted that joke laid to rest with George.  Not that George was really laid to rest.  Fred didn’t know where his brother’s body was, but he knew he never wanted to see it again.  Didn’t want to see those empty eyes, that empty body.  It was already so hard, feeling that empty connection.

“Well, if you say so,” Diggory said doubtfully.

“I do.  Now, let’s go.  My friends are waiting on me.”  Fred pulled his broom out of his drawstring bag and strode outside, the other man fast on his heels.  Least he wouldn’t have to worry about if Diggory could keep up with him.  You didn’t play seeker if you were a slouch on a broom.

Stepping outside, he found Hogsmeade to be eerily quiet.  It wasn’t even that late, still the dinner hour, but the cool spring air carried no sounds over it.

“This is spooky,” Diggory said, looking around.

“Very, but there’s no time to stop and study it,” Bill said, joining them outside with Charlie.

“Right.  Everyone is already off.   Keep your eyes open for any oddities on the way,” Charlie stated as he mounted his broom.

Fred wrinkled his nose, he didn’t like being told what to do by his older brothers, but they were right and the current state of affairs was much too serious for him to argue just for form’s sake.

The four of them pushed off from the ground and rose quickly into the air.  Once at a good altitude they pointed their brooms towards the castle and sped off.

Even as Fred leaned over his broom he reached up and lightly touched his collar, checking for the little beetle.  Just to make sure, after all, he had a life debt to keep.

XXX

Hermione raced into the Entrance Hall, a multitude of students on her heels, many of them still chanting, “For Hogwarts!”  She couldn’t believe there were so many following her.

Didn’t they realize this was a battle?

People had died at the Battle of Malfoy Manor, the Battle of Godric’s Hollow, and the Attack on Little Hangleton.  

People would likely die today.

Voldemort was in the castle.  His horcruxes were almost all gone, and he knew it.  He also knew he was the master of the bloody Death Stick.

Well, the last one was debatable as to its truthfulness.  Maybe the cursed snake was the master.  Wouldn’t that be a laugh?

She snorted and yanked the door to the castle open, several other students assisting her.

Empty castle grounds lay before them, lit by the rising moon.  Everything appeared normal, but Hermione didn’t trust appearances.  

“What do you recommend?” Mclaggen asked, looking to her for orders.

She nibbled on her lips and scanned the grounds.  Readings and lessons weaved their way through her mind.  Not to mention numerous chess matches against Ron.

“We need protections against avada kedavra.  Get the tables out of the great hall.  Form barriers.  Get everyone sorted into groups of four.  Try to mix the houses evenly, as well as the years.  We all have our own strengths and we need to work together,” she ordered, not even realizing the authority that had crept into her tone.

Mclaggen didn’t reply, instead he turned and swiftly began calling out orders to his old classmates.  After a moment of hesitation Seventh years swept through the crowd, breaking themselves into groups that indubitably held one from each house, though a few were missing Ravenclaws and Slytherins.  Hermione sent a fleeting thought after Zabini and the others.

Hopefully they didn’t run into Voldemort on their way to the hospital wing.

XXX

Blaise’s skin was crawling by the time he reached the second floor.

Something wasn’t right.  

At all.

The teachers should have engaged the Dark Lord and his followers by now.  

What could the Dark Lord be doing?

The odd feeling persisted all the way to the Hospital Wing. There he found the door cracked open, and, as he reached out to push it open the rest of the way he found a familiar wand pointed directly at him.

His shoulders relaxed in relief, though he still felt as if something was very wrong.

“You look like Blaise.  Tell me something only he would know.”

Blaise’s elegant eyebrows shot up. “You really want me to say something only I would know?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.  The first time we kissed you scolded me for doing it in your father’s house.  Now, you give one.”

Theo’s voice got very low, so that only Blaise could hear him.  “Your mother doesn’t actually kill her husbands.  Someone cursed her, but she refuses to believe it.  And nothing you say makes a difference.  Also, every man she meets seems to be oblivious to the fact a relationship with her equals suicide.”

Blaise didn’t wait.  He pushed the door open and swept Theo into his arms, heedless of the other students.  Hopefully so many things would occur this evening that no one would think twice about them.  And if no one thought twice then no one could tell his mother.

“It took you long enough!”

Blaise pulled away from Theo and looked over at Pansy, perched next to a sleeping Longbottom.  Lovegood reclined on the bed next to them, Madam Pomfrey tending her wounds.

“Yes, it took us just long enough.  Black is outside, forming a defense against any reinforcements while the teachers chase after the Dark Lord.  He’s still somewhere in the castle,” Tracey said, striding past Theo and Blaise, the Ravenclaws behind her.

Madam Pomfrey stood up and looked them all over. “If the teachers are off seeing to the Death Eaters in the castle, then what are you doing?  I’m certain Minerva sent all of the students to safety!”

A rather inelegant snort came from Lisa Turpin, “Safety?  She sent us to the Slytherin Common Room!  The place You-Know-Who likely knows best in the entire castle!  And we had traitors in our midst!”

“Besides,” Mandy Brocklehurst stated cooly,” this is our world, too.  We refuse to sit by idly and do nothing while a madman attacks all we hold dear.”

“Not to mention redemption,” Tracey said.  “The Dark Lord gave Slytherin a bad name.  We may value cunning and ambition above all else, but we certainly value other things as well.  Love, friendship, family.  Those are all important to us.  Just look at them.” She gestured over at Longbottom and Pansy.  “A Longbottom and a Parkinson!  Engaged!  And not a single harsh word from any of their classmates!  My father was a muggleborn and yet my mother’s family raised no objections because, despite his blood, he was one of us.  He was a Slytherin.  We just need to widen our circles.  To stop thinking of our houses, and start thinking of our school.  For Hogwarts!”

“For Hogwarts!”

Tracey raised her hand in the air, clenched into a fist as the others followed her lead in their shout.  Blaise could hardly believe it, but he joined in.  Tracey was right, even if her words and actions were out of character.  That scene down in the basement must have really gotten to her.

“Hmph! I won’t deny what you said, but I don’t like it.  Now, I’m going to keep treating Miss Lovegood.  Make yourselves useful and keep the room secure.”  With that, the medi-witch refocused her attention on Lovegood, leaving everyone standing there a bit awkwardly.

Blaise shifted from one foot to the other, wondering what to do now that he had reunited with Theo.

Wait.

Hadn’t Black said something about a map?

He leaned down to whisper in Theo’s ear.  “Black said something about retrieving a map.”

“Map?  Oh!!”  Theo jerked away and headed for the door.  “We left it out by the Shifting Room!  Hurry!”

Blaise groaned but hurried after his lover, calling out as he started to run, “Tracey!  You’re in charge!  We’ll be right back!”

“But-!”

Her reply was cut off as Blaise shut the door to the Hospital Wing and hurried off, running after Theo.

XXX

Luna studied the other students as Madam Pomfrey finished healing the last of her wounds.  There wasn’t much creative thinking in the room, but that was alright, she had enough for all of them.

They’d have to leave Neville behind, he would need hours of rest to be back in top form.  Pansy could watch him, along with Madam Pomfrey.

But the others…

She smiled.

Yes, with a little bit of creative thinking they could be quite useful.  

Well, as long as Luna kept the wrackspurts away, but that wouldn’t be too difficult.  She’d managed to keep them away from her friends for years, extending the protections to her housemates wouldn’t be too difficult.

“There, you’re as good as new!  Now, I want you to take it easy.  Understand, Miss Lovegood?”  Madam Pomfrey asked rather sternly, staring down at the pale girl.

Luna gave the medi-witch a small smile.  “Yes, I understand.”

“Good.”  

With that, the medi-witch bustled over to her office.  Once she and disappeared inside of it Luna sat up and yanked open her bag.  

Time to get started.

XXX

Hermione crouched down behind one of the upturned tables.  Mclaggen and Creevy were on either side of her and - despite her misgivings - she couldn’t help but feel glad they were there.  Padfoot and Mrs. Longbottom had spent a year with Mclaggen.  He may not have had the same training she or her friends had had, but it was much better than anyone else in the school.

“I don’t like this,” Mclaggen muttered.  “There’s no sounds of fighting in the castle.  And not a soul out here.  Are you sure You-Know-Who is in the castle?”

“Of course I’m sure!  Luna saw him!”

Mclaggen turned and gaped at her, as did Creevy.

“Wait,” said Creevy.  “Are you saying we’re doing all of this because ONLY Loony Lovegood saw You-Know-Who?!?”

Hermione reached out and grabbed Creevy by the collar, “DON’T call her Loony!”

Creevy grew very pale and nodded hurriedly, “Yes, ma’am!  Sorry!”

She released him, scowling.  “He came out of the Shifting Room.  Blew it apart.  Dropped a wall on Neville and slammed Luna into another one.  He’s very angry about something the Order did.  The Ministry was gutted after the Battle of Godric’s Hollow.  No one is in charge since Scrimgeour died.  The Order is mostly underground and the Death Eaters don’t have enough support with the general population.  My articles may have helped with that, but we’ll never know.  Many parents left their children at Hogwarts as, even without Dumbledore, they thought it was safest.  Voldemort won’t leave tonight without the school under his control.”

“So, you’re sure he’s in the castle?” Mclaggen asked.

“Yes.  I just don’t know what he’s doing.  Or why the teachers haven’t found him yet.”

_Hermione?_

Draco’s thought came to her and she felt her heart lurch in fear.

_What’s wrong?  Are you alright?_

_Yes, there were Death Eaters in the shack.  We took them out and, well, I, uh, accidentally killed one.  I’m a murderer._

She sighed.  Hadn’t his mother ever spoken to him about this?  She knew Padfoot had discussed it with her and Harry.  

_Draco, you’re not a murderer.  I’m guessing he was trying to kill you.  No, you’re not becoming like Voldemort.  Trust me, I did a lot of research on horcruxes.  Intent is what matters.  Now, I can’t talk._

_Why?  What’s wrong?_

She fought the urge to roll her eyes.  There was nothing wrong, but she needed all her attention on the grounds.  Somehow she’d ended up in charge of this group and if anything happened….

_Voldemort seems to want to destroy Hogwarts.  He’s inside fighting the teachers and he called for reinforcements.  Order isn’t here yet and we-_

She cut herself off abruptly and turned towards the Forbidden Forest.

There’d been a noise, like the breaking of a tree.  What-

She gasped at what emerged from the trees.  

She’d never seen a giant before.  Let alone a dozen of them.  

Students all around her gasped and cried out at the sight lying before them.  The giants stood there, on the edge of the forest, for a minute, gazing out rather stupidly at the tables spread across the grounds, with students crouched behind them.

She kneeled there, frozen in shock, her wand cutting into her hand as she gripped it tightly, her heart pounding in her chest.

_HERMIONE?!?!?!?!_

Draco’s voice drew her back, she gathered up her thoughts and got them organized.  This was no time for panicking.

Still, she couldn’t help but let a little of her fear and worry slip into the words she sent back to Draco.

_There are bloody GIANTS!!!!!_

_We’re on our way!_

His reply soothed her a bit, but that died as soon as a shout from the Forest got the giants running towards them.

She stood up and blasted the ground in front of a giant’s feet, sending it sprawling to the ground.  Creevy and Mclaggen jumped to their feet beside her.

“FOR HOGWARTS!!!” Mclaggen screamed.

He’d obviously paid attention to his studies, as he didn’t try to cast magic directly on the incoming giants.  Instead he turned and blasted Greenhouse 3, catching up a wave of broken glass in a magical net and sending it shooting into the stampeding giants.

They didn’t stop, but they did slow down and let out howls of rage.  This seemed to bolster the other students and they followed suit, jumping up, shouting, “FOR HOGWARTS!” and doing all they could to stop the creatures.

A giant was heading right for Hermione and she grabbed Creevy by the back of his robes, yanking him out of the way as an enormous hand tried to scoop him up.  Even as she did so a loud scream pierced the air.  

Looking up she saw someone fly through the air and, before Hermione could raise her wand, slam into the castle.

They fell limply to the ground.

Rage boiled through Hermione, followed by a powerful surge of magic.

How DARE they?!?!

She’d led these people here!  They were hers!  Her classmates!  Her friends!  Her people!  They were HERS!  HERS!!!

She shoved Creevy behind her and threw herself to the ground, thus dodging another attempt by the giant to grab onto them.  Rolling along the ground her free hand grabbed onto a broken branch.  Jumping to her feet she transfigured it into a long, thin dagger without a second thought.

Not a single thought moved through her mind as she gave way to the Black Rage.  

Dimly aware of other shapes coming out of the forest behind the giants she ran towards the giant that had been attacking her and Creevy, swerving to avoid his grabbing fingers she  slammed the dagger into the back of his wrist, using her recent studies of healing to slip between the bones and hit one of his enormous veins.

Yanking the dagger back out as he howled in agony she screamed, “FOR HOGWARTS!!!” before running towards his legs.

A swift stab in the back of his ankle sent him tumbling down, but left her unable to retrieve the dagger.  She tried to dodge the large limbs, but tripped on her robes and went flying.  Struggling to recover without breaking her wand she let out a shout as a large hand wrapped itself around her torso.  

She wriggled, throwing herself from side to side as she was lifted off the ground.  Her robes fell away from her face and she blinked in disorientation until she realized the giant, now sitting on the ground, was glaring at her.

“BAD!”

He gave her a rough shake, squeezing her tightly as he did so.

“BAD!!!”

His arm raised up and she struggled harder, yanking her right arm free.  Then, holding her wand tightly, she slammed the butt of it into the soft flesh between the giant’s thumb and index finger.  He howled in pain, but didn’t drop her.  Instead he shook her harder and she felt her wand slip out of her fingers.

Fear shot through her, but she refused to give into it.

“FOR HOGWARTS!” She heard herself scream as she fought all the harder to free herself, even as she was shaken so hard that her teeth rattled.  But she only managed to free her other arm.  

Fat lot of good it did her.

Merlin Damn It!  If she didn’t get out of this quickly she’d be dead.  She shouldn’t have let her temper get the better of her, but damn it!  Her people were getting hurt!  They’d trusted her and she’d let them down!  

She had to get out of this!  She had to!  For herself, for Harry, for Draco, for everyone else that was counting on her!

With that thought she took a deep breath and prepared herself for one last attempt to escape, even as she felt her ribs scream in agony as the giant’s hand tightened.

She raised her right arm high, preparing to slam her bony elbow into the giant’s meaty flesh when the most beautiful sound in the world came floating through the air.

A sweet and piercing melody, ending on a piercing scream of defiance caught her ears and Hermione looked up to see a phoenix flying towards her.

It had to be Fawkes.  Dumbledore’s phoenix.

But he hadn’t been seen since Christmas.

What….

Something dark fell from Fawkes’ talons and Hermione stared in confusion as the old Sorting Hat fell onto her upraised hand.

What use had she for an old hat?

The answer came when she felt something cold and hard slip into her hand.  She let loose with a feral grin as she reached up with her left hand and yanked the hat off.

There, gripped in her right hand was a gorgeous silver sword with a glittering, rubied handle.

She let out a howl of triumph and brought the sword swinging down, slicing cleanly through the giant’s wrist.  He let go of her with a scream of pain, now with both wrists terribly injured.

Luckily, as he was sitting, she didn’t have far to fall.  Nor did she hesitate when she hit the ground.  She screamed out, “FOR HOGWARTS!” and ran forward, plunging the sword into the giant’s chest.

It took both hands to yank it back out.  She stood there for a moment, panting and covered in giant blood, before the screams and shouts of her fellow students drew her back to the battle.

Cursing under her breath she scanned the ground until she found her wand lying on the grass, gleaming in the moonlight.

Swinging down to pick it up, her eyes scanned the battlefield.  Now there were spells flying and she could see masked figures fighting with the giants.  

No wonder no one had helped her take out the giant.  Their hands were full enough.  

Grinning a bit madly she swapped the sword and her wand.  

She’d just taken out a giant by herself.  A few Death Eaters were nothing.  Nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, things have really started. Now, who knows what Voldemort is doing?
> 
> If ya'll are interested, then go check out the Spring 2017 Dramione Fanfiction Award! 
> 
>  
> 
> Fanfiction Awards


	66. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna explains her plan, but no one truly understands it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super thanks to my amazing betas!

Pansy watched in trepidation as Luna began pulling odd-looking objects out of her drawstring bag.  Quite a few of them looked like they belonged on Knockturn Alley.

The most normal looking item was a little tin whistle, which Luna raised to her mouth and blew on.  No sound emerged, but that didn’t seem to bother the pale-haired girl, who slipped it around her neck before hopping off the bed.

“Luna, what are you doing?”

Pansy’s query was ignored as Luna began drawing a rather large circle on the stone floor with a piece of white chalk.  Then she began drawing smaller circles within the large one, placing each of the odd-looking objects in one of the small circle.  When finished she stood up and studied her work, not realizing everyone else in the room was studying her.

“Perfect.”

“What’s perfect?” Tracey asked Luna, eyeing the younger girl with great trepidation.

The younger girl looked at Tracey and smiled brilliantly.  “Spectral planes.  I read about them some at Christmas.  I’ve always wondered if there was a way to speak to or visit those that have already gone onto the next great adventure.”

“You mean like ghosts?”  Brocklehurst asked.

Luna shook her head.  “No.  I mean those that were not afraid to move on.  But I was having no real luck until Hermione confirmed that the Elder Wand was real.”

“What’s the Elder Wand got to do with spectral planes and death?” Pansy asked, incredulously.

“Why, everything.  The Elder Wand wasn’t the only Deathly Hallow.  Now, the Cloak is no mystery.  I suspected that Harry’s cloak was special since I first saw it.  I thought it might be a Hallow, but wasn’t sure.  Harry never let me inspect it, said he was afraid nargles might get to it.  But when Fred told us that Dumbledore had the Elder Wand I knew that Harry’s cloak was the _Cloak_.  It’s only logical.”

Pansy blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of the information.  “Wait, why is that logical?”

Luna sighed and pulled a small black stone out of her pocket. “Because, Dumbledore had the Cloak until Christmas of Harry’s First Year.  Said it was leant to him.  Now, I can’t find anything on the Resurrection Stone, but I thought it the Cloak and Wand are real then so is the Stone. I got lucky and now we’ll see if I can actually make this Corporeal Stone.  It’s not a Resurrection Stone, but then, I need the original to study if I want to make an accurate copy.”

Luna pulled her wand out from behind her ear and knelt on the edge of the large chalk circle.  Reaching out she placed the black stone in the center.  Her head tilted to one side as she surveyed the work she had done before looking up and eyeing everyone in the room.

Just watching her made Pansy nervous and she tangled her fingers in Neville’s.  Drawing strength from the familiarity of it.

If she closed her eyes she could pretend that he was just sleeping, not knocked out.  That the Dark Lord hadn’t destroyed the Shifting Room.  That their friends weren’t scattered all over the Castle, fighting for their lives.  That they were curled up in bed down in the Slytherin Common Room.

Yes, pretending was good.

Something cold brushed her shoulder and she gasped, opening her eyes to see practically every ghost in the castle now inhabiting the Hospital Wing.

What the hell?

Several of the Ravenclaws let out shouts of surprise, but Tracey had only drawn her wand and pointed it at Luna.  Apparently not trusting the blonde girl at all now.

“Good, you heard the whistle,” Luna said, stopping her intense study of the other students.  Completely heedless of the wand now aimed at her rather threateningly.

Whistle?  How in the world could a whistle that made no sound summon ghosts?  This was ridiculous.  Just how did Luna come up with things like this?

“What exactly are you doing, young lady?”  Professor Binns asked sharply.

“You’ll see.  Now, who can help me…”

Professor Binns sputtered in indignation, but the girl ignored him and continued to look around, heedless of the many complaining ghosts until her pale gaze came to settle on Pansy.

“You’ll do.  Come here.”

Pansy sighed, but knew it was no use arguing with the younger girl.  Luna could be even scarier than Hermione or Mrs. Malfoy when she set her mind to it.

“Fine.  What do you need?”

Luna smiled happily and began giving Pansy orders.  The orders were so needlessly (in Pansy’s mind) convoluted that her attention wandered until she met Tracey’s gaze.  The other girl was staring at her in disappointment and it took Pansy a moment to remember that Luna had ‘taught a lesson’ to Tracey back during Umbridge’s reign.  A lesson that had involved chalk circles on the ground.  No wonder Tracey didn’t trust her and seemed to see Pansy’s assistance as a betrayal.  Pansy tried to give her fellow housemate an encouraging smile but the girl spun on her heels and left the room.

Pansy moved to call out, but found her face clasped by Luna’s small hands.

“Ready?  We must be quick.  The fate of the world hangs on tonight.”

Pansy nodded and took up her position.  She’d finish this, then send someone after Tracey. No one should be wandering on their own with the Dark Lord in the castle, but there was no way Pansy was leaving Neville.

No way in hell.

The two girls, such opposites in appearance and personality, stood on opposite sides of the chalk circle, their wands drawn and pointed directly at the black stone.

“Now, we have to speak together.  One.  Two. Three!”

“ _Corporis_ _Mortem_!”

XXX

The wave of fear that came in a rush through his link with Hermione almost made Harry fall off his broom.  Only during her worst nightmares had he ever felt fear so strong.  Though this was different, this fear was coated in anger and frustration.

He gripped his broom harder, not caring if he cracked the wood, and tried to urge it on even faster.  The Firebolt was a few years old, but it still quickly outpaced the Nimbuses that Ron and Ginny were on.  Only Draco, on his Firebolt 2.0 could keep pace.

Harry chanced a glance over at the other boy, the chilled wind making it hard to see clearly through the moonlight.  Draco’s brow was furrowed in worry and he looked as desperate as Harry felt.  

Abruptly the fear turned to triumph followed by confidence he’d never felt from Hermione in any location that was not a classroom.

He felt his grip relax a bit, but did not slow down.  She was safe for now, but what about everyone else?

No, they could waste no time.  Harry knew the prophecy now.  He knew no one else could take down Voldemort.  Or, at least, that had been true, since the prophecy had been started.

Besides, Harry had a few bones to pick with Voldemort.  Hermione’s drive for revenge against Bellatrix had fueled his own - albeit calmer - desire to avenge his own parents against Voldemort.

A sharp cry cut through the wind rushing past his ears and Harry abruptly braked even as his head whipped around, searching.

What he found made his heart stop for a split second.

Ron was plummeting towards the ground at a fierce rate even as Ginny raced after him.

Harry plummeted into a dive, out of the corner of his eye he saw Draco join him.  They rushed towards the ground, passing Ginny on the way.  Her Nimbus still no match for their Firebolts when it came to speed.

Ron was completely limp and almost to the tree tops when they reached him.  Harry grabbed one arm while Draco grabbed the other.  Both of them gasped as Ron’s weight almost wrenched their arms out of their sockets.

They struggled to lower him through the dense foliage when Ron abruptly grew lighter.  Harry gave Ginny a thankful glance as they navigated the dense branches and landed on the dark forest ground.  Merlin, he loved that girl and her ability to think on her feet.

“Fuck!  What happened?”  Draco asked, looking at Ginny.

“The road.  There’s fighting.  I think it was just a stunner.  It was red.  Don’t think it was deliberate.  Stray spell.”  Ginny said in a rush as she fell to the ground and checked to make sure Ron was breathing.

Harry cast “ _Ennervate!”_ on his best mate.

Ron jerked awake with a shout and began thrashing about.  Clearly fearing he’d been captured.

“Stop that!”  Ginny ordered.  “You’re fine!”

“What- Oh!”  Ron gave his head a shake and looked around, his eyes straining to see through the darkness.

“Here. _Lumos!_ ” Draco said, holding his wand up.  The four of them glanced around the woods.  Harry was looking for Ron’s broom, and, when he saw it he felt a cold finger of dread run down his spine.

“This is bad…” Ginny whispered, her face growing white.

Ron gulped, “Sp-sp-spiders!”

Harry didn’t stop to think.  Fuck Ron’s broom.  It was time to go.

“We gotta go!”  Harry exclaimed.

When no one moved he let out a curse and grabbed his best mate.  Dragging him to his feet as the web the broom was lying on began to vibrate.  As if something large was moving across it.

That seemed to wake everyone up.

Ginny stood up and grabbed her own broom.  She mounted it and looked at Ron.  “I’m lightest, ride with me, Ron.”

Ron didn’t move, staring in horrified fear as a long, hairy spider leg came into view.  Harry’s own heart was pounding in fear as, with the help of Draco, he man-handled Ron onto the broom behind Ginny.

Once Ron was on she didn’t wait around for Harry or Draco to mount their own brooms.  She took off, rising slowly through the dense trees.

“Don’t leave, younglings.  We are ever so hungry,” the ginormous spider said, his glassy black eyes now clearly in view.  As were the numerous smaller spiders surrounding him.  Some were as small as a sickle, but many of them made Hagrid’s hippogriffs look small.

“Fire,” Draco whispered.  “On three, cast and fly.”

“One,” Harry said, pulling out his wand.

“Two,” Draco said, mounting his broom.

The spiders saw this and began rushing towards them.  Harry hurriedly mounted his own broom.  His heart pounding so fast he was afraid he would pass out.

“THREE!” They pushed off the ground when the spiders were but a foot away, aiming their wands at the seething mass of spider bodies they shouted out, “ _Incendio!!!!”_

Flames erupted from their wands and the spiders screamed as their hairy bodies were immolated.

The pounding of his heart almost drowned out the screams of the spiders as Harry flew upwards, heedless of the branches scratching him open as he went.

They broke through the top of the trees together and Harry revealed in the cool breeze running over his sweat-coated skin, even as it made the cuts burn.

Alive.  

He looked at Draco, who was as pale as a sheet and breathing hard.  At Ron, who was as stiff and pale as a marble statue behind Ginny on a broom.

They were alive.

They were all alive.

“You good?” Draco asked Ron, who nodded sharply, looking rather sick.

“Then let’s go,” Harry said, turning back towards the castle.  He could see spells flaring up into the night sky from several locations around the castle, as well as  up and down the road between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts.

The Battle of Hogwarts was well under way.

XXX

Fred spun through the air, narrowly dodging a jet of green light.  He shouted off a spell at a clump of Death Eaters even as he prayed that Skeeter was hanging on tight.  

They’d caught this group rushing up the road to Hogwarts from the village, where they had likely been hiding.  There weren’t many, but it was still a goodly amount for just four wizards on brooms to handle.

He cursed and jerked to the side, almost falling off his broom as he dodged another killing curse.  This time his return spell knocked a Death Eater out completely, every inch of his skin now covered in festering boils.  Even the bits between his fingers, which made it utterly impossible to wield a wand.

Fred was fast on a broom, but not fast enough to dodge one of the many incendios cast his way.  Before he could even turn to put it out Skeeter appeared.  Perched on the broom in front of him she cast, “ _Aguamenti!”_ Putting out the flames before turning once more into a beetle and hiding under his collar.

Fred couldn’t help but grin as a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins.  His aim felt truer and his spirit much lighter as he continued to fight.

It felt good to have someone watching his back again.

XXX

Theo ran through the castle with his wand at the ready and his eyes focused on the path in front of him.  It was comforting to have Blaise there at his back.

They arrived at the sixth floor, with the destroyed Shifting Room before them.  Theo didn’t slow down, so it wasn’t until he was past the destruction that he realized Blaise’s footsteps were no longer echoing his own.

He stopped and turned to find his lover staring mutely at the destruction, a look of horror on his face.

“Blaise?”

Blaise blinked, tearing his gaze away from the wreckage.  “What- What happened?”

“Dark Lord.  Destroyed the room because his horcrux wasn’t there.  Think he realized the Order was playing him.  Don’t know where he went after.  Now, hurry, we’ve got to-”

Theo’s words ended in a choked sound as a figure rounded the corner behind Blaise.  The utter horror and shock he felt at the identity of the figure caused all thoughts within his brain to cease.

The Death Eater, a man Theo had once called father, slashed his wand through the air, sending Blaise crumpling to the ground in a flash of red light.

“Now, boy.  Are you going to come with me nicely, or do I need to kill your little friend here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No dramione, but we'll have some in the next chapter as Draco finally reaches the Castle. We'll also find just how Theo gets out of this mess. And if Luna's Stone works.


	67. Not a Nott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo deals with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my amazing betas. As always.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of abuse, physical, verbal, and emotional.  Nothing worse than what was seen in Chapter 1 in terms of detail.

The entire world ground to a halt as Theo stared down the hallway.  For an instant he was five years old again.  

_His father stood over his sobbing mother, two wands in his hand and rage contorting his face.  Theo sat on his bed, the storybook his mother had been reading lying open on the bed.  The little baby dragons flitting around the page, heedless of the strife going on around them._

_“I warned you.” His father reached down and grabbed his mother by her hair, yanking her up.  She sobbed even louder and clung to his hand, trying to take some of the weight off her scalp.  “The boy is a NOTT!!!  Nott’s DO NOT read storybooks!  MY SON WILL NOT BE A PANSY!”_

_“I’m sorry!” Mother sobbed.  “It-it-”_

_“Shut it!” His father gave her a hard shake and then threw her across the room, she slammed into the wall and crumpled to the ground in sudden silence._

_“MOTHER!”_

_Theo sprang out of bed and attempted to reach her, but was stopped by a hard grip on the back of his pyjamas._

_“I don’t think so, boy.  You and I, we’re going to have a little talk.”  He yanked Theo up even as he leaned down a bit, so that their faces were level.  Cold fury burned in his father’s eyes, making Theo quake with fear.  “And if you don’t do what I say your mother will pay for it.  Understand?”_

_Theo gulped and looked over at his mother, tears making his vision blurry._

_He found himself nodding in agreement.  Gaining a small, frigid smile from his father._

_“Good.  Now go to sleep.  Tomorrow we’ll start your real education.  You’re a Nott and it’s time you learned to be one.”  He tossed Theo back onto the bed and waited until he had clambered under the covers before calling out, “Mitsy!”_

_“Yes, master?” The little house elf said as she appeared._

_“Tend to your mistress.  If she is beyond your capabilities notify me.”  With that he spun and stalked out of the room, his robes fluttering behind him, haunting Theo’s nightmares for years to come._

Theo knew the man that sired him was good on his word.  If he went with him then Blaise would be safe.  But if he didn’t….

His hands clenched into fists and tears pricked his eyes.  Theo had behaved perfectly after that incident with the storybook.  He’d done and said everything his father expected of him, all in fear for his mother.  But even good behavior couldn’t save her from Dragon Pox.  After that, he’d behaved more out of habit.  Three years was enough time to form habits, another three years had only cemented those habits.   It had taken the return on the Dark Lord, his relationships with Blaise and Tracey, and five years to get over his fear of breaking those habits.

Could he do it?  Could he go back to that?  Go back to being the perfect Nott?

His real hand tightened on his wand as he shifted his left arm, feeling the weight of the silver hand where there had once been flesh and blood.

No.  

Promises or not, he couldn’t go back to being a Nott.

Not now, not ever.

“Well, boy?”  The man who sired him asked, raising his wand and aiming it at Blaise.

“If you kill him, you’ll never get your heir back,” Theo said in a voice that was colder than he had ever used before.

Mr. Nott sneered, “I don’t have to kill him.  You can even bring him with you.  The threat of torture works just as well.”

“What?  You honestly want me to believe you’ll let my male lover live with me?”

Mr. Nott didn’t even blink at the admission that his son had a boyfriend. “Male lover, female lover, pet monkey.  You can have all three as long as you act as a proper Nott in public, marry a girl from a good family, and sire a pureblood heir.  That means your little friend, Miss Davis, is not an appropriate spouse.  No mudblood will ever taint our bloodline.”

Rage fired through Theo’s bloodstream, but he stamped it down.  Mr. Nott was trying to rile him up, make him slip up.

“Tracey is a half-blood.  Not that it truly matters.  As for marrying and begetting an heir.  Well, I think I’ll pass.  The Nott line will die with me.”

Mr. Nott’s face twisted in fury.  “If you don’t come with me willingly, well, we can work something else out.   _Imperio!_ ”

Theo didn’t know why he hadn’t expected it.  But as the calm fog fell over him he found he didn’t really care.

“Come to me.”

Theo moved down the hallway until he was standing before the man who had sired him.

“Give me your wand.  Then pick up your lover.”

He did as he was told, feeling pleasure at how easy it was to follow these directions.  Why had he not wanted to do this before?  It didn’t make sense to him.

“Good.  Now follow me.  The Dark Lord will be winning this battle quite handily.  I’ll take you to a safe place and then return.”

Theo happily walked behind Mr. Nott, cradling Blaise in his arms as they moved down the hallway and to one of the many staircases.  As they rounded a bend in the stairs his father came to an abrupt halt, and Theo happily followed suit.

Through his haze he could hear someone approaching up the stairs.  They weren’t speaking, but their steps were rather loud.  

Abruptly they rounded the bend and Theo’s gaze locked with Tracey’s.  She gasped in surprise and tried to raise her wand, but Mr. Nott had been ready for her.

“ _Avada Kedavra_!”

She crumpled and a cold bucket of ice water dumped itself over Theo, washing away all of the haze.

Tracey.  His Tracey.  His friend.  The girl who had decided on that first train ride that he would be her best friend.  The person who’d always pulled him out of the depressions his home life constantly brought upon him.

And now she was dead.

His father stepped over the body and continued walking, not even bothering to look down at the person he had just killed.  Nor did he turn to check on Theo, assuming that the death of a girl could not possibly break the imperius spell.  But, like many of those that found personal connections impossible to make, he failed to understand just how strong the bond between two people could be.  Even if he had always used those bonds to control others.

Ice cold fury burned inside of Theo and he set Blaise down carefully on the stairs.  

He didn’t have a wand, but he didn’t need one.

Just as Mr. Nott reached the bottom of the stairs Theo reached him.  Mr. Nott stopped there as if to listen for anyone in the hallway, and Theo took the opportunity.  He was on a step above the older man and so it was no problem at all to reach over the man’s shoulder with his silver hand and grab tightly onto the exposed throat.

Mr. Nott tried to screamed, but no air could make it’s way out.  He struggled, but the silver hand he had so kindly ‘gifted’ his son with did not care.  Not when it was wielded by a mind steeped in rage and grief.  Mr. Nott tried to raise his hand, the one holding the two wands, but Theo easily tore the wands from the older man’s grasp, even as his silver fingers tightened their grip.  

Eventually the struggling stopped, but Theo didn’t loosen his hold for several minutes.  

Just to be sure.

Releasing his grip he watched as the older man fell to the ground with a solid thump.  The small part of his brain, not enveloped in rage and grief, made him search through the older man’s robes until he found his personal wallet.  The contents of which contained the Nott family ring, the vault key, and the keys to the Nott manor.

Theo would sell them all and then donate the rest to charity.  Preferably one that helped muggle-borns.

That idea made him smile as he climbed back up the stairs to Blaise and Tracey.  The smile only left his face as he closed his dear friend’s eyes and settled her more peacefully on the stairs.  He doubted anyone else would be coming this way.

Then he picked Blaise back up, finding this much more difficult when not under the Imperius, and carried him up the stairs and down the hallway to the room in which the map was lying on.

Theo glanced at the map, seeing Death Eaters and a few teachers down near a girl’s bathroom.  Glancing at the Hospital Wing he saw everyone they had left behind there, as well as a large number of ghosts.  He could only guess what was going on in both places, but he didn’t really care to.

All of his mind was focused on waking Blaise up and telling him what had just occurred.  Hell, he could hardly wrap his own mind around it.

XXX

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ’

The jet of green light flashed through the air, hitting one of the many students fighting desperately for their lives beside Hermione.  She ran forwards, dodging another jet of green light.  

“ _Confringo!_ ”

Fire exploded from her wand and the screams of Death Eaters filled the air.  She smiled in satisfaction and then turned as the ground vibrated beneath her feet.

A giant came running through the incinerated Death Eaters.  Heedless of the people he crushed beneath his large feet.  His thick skin was covered in scorch marks, but they didn’t seem to bother him at all.

She switched hands, moving the sword to her main hand and ran forward quickly, dodging a chunk of stone that came flying at her head.

The sword pierced the giant’s calf, making it let out a loud scream of pain.  She yanked the sword out and danced backwards, but the giant didn’t fall.  Instead he raised a large tree trunk he’d been carrying and tried to bring it down on her head.  She scrambled out of the way, her heart pounding in her chest.  She wasn’t fast enough, with a great heave she threw herself out of the way, rolling along the ground.

A sharp branch scraped her face as the weight of the trunk barely missed her.  The giant yanked it back up, aiming for another blow and she tried to stand up, but tripped over her robes, unable to manage them with her hands full.  

She was struggling to stand, about to drop the sword and half believing this was the end when she found herself rather abruptly not alone anymore.  

“Giants.  Giants I can handle.  Give me that.  Lost my wand to the spiders”  Ron yanked the sword out of Hermione’s hand even as Harry, Draco and Ginny raised a shield together that was strong enough to stand up to the giant’s tree trunk.

The giant let out a howl of fury when he raised the trunk again to find her and the other still standing, but he didn’t have a chance to swing it again.  

A bat bogey hex flew from Ginny’s wand and the giant dropped his weapon to scratch at his face, attempting to stop the nasty things flying out of his nose.

And that was all the time Ron needed.  

He had the body strength that Hermione did not.  With two swipes he sliced through one of the giant’s ankles.  Slicing through the achilles tendon and sending him tumbling to the ground.  After that it was only a moment before Ron had dispatched the giant.

An arm snaked itself around Hermione’s waist.  She looked up into Draco’s face, meeting his silver eyes with her own amber ones.  

“You alright?”

She nodded, but didn’t reply, instead spinning around him and blasting a Death Eater that had been attempting to sneak up on them.

“Where’s Voldemort?”  Harry asked, grabbing Ginny’s free hand and moving so that neither of them had a back to an enemy.

“Inside.  I think.”  She answered, following suit with Draco as Ron rejoined them, covered in Giant blood.  

“I need to get there.  The Order is on the road.  They’re coming.  Everyone should be alright here.”  Harry said, each sentence punctuated by a spell from his wand.

Hermione had to fight the urge to turn and scowl at her brother.  “Alright here?  ALRIGHT HERE?!?!?  Don’t you know how FUCKING DANGEROUS giants are?!?!?  LOOK AT THE BODIES!!!  We’re NOT alright!!!”

“Point,” Ginny and Draco said.

“MERLIN DAMN IT!  Okay, so we’re NOT ALRIGHT!  But if I don’t stop Voldemort, then-”

“THEN WHAT?!?  You’re not a horcrux anymore!!!  Besides!  You know what Luna said!”

“Prophecies hold only the power you give them,” Draco said calmly, even as he set fire to a group of inferi.

“ARGGH!!!  Yes!  But HE believes the prophecy! And the teachers are good, but none of them are Dumbledore!  They don’t stand a chance!  He likes to talk!  I can get him talking, slow him down, til the Order gets here!”

“Point,” Ginny and Draco said again.

Hermione let out a scream of anger, blasting a group of Death Eaters and sending them straight into the Whomping Willow’s tender embrace.

“FINE!  GO THEN!  Leave your classmates to DIE!”

Draco’s arm snaked around pulled her to him, he pressed a small kiss to her neck before whispering in her ear.  “He needs to go. What if Voldemort is doing something to the castle’s defenses from inside?  There are lots of nasty things in the Forbidden Forest.  Right now everything brought in is a follower of the Dark Lord.  But if dark creatures can come in easily….”

His voice trailed off, but she didn’t need to hear more.  Just his touch and the calm tone of his voice calmed the fiery rage burning inside of her.

“Harry, let’s go.  Ginny, you come too.  Draco, Hermione, stay here until the Order arr-”  Ron’s words cut off with a small gasp and Hermione looked up to see what he did.

In fact, the entire battle froze in shock as the doors of the castle were thrown wide open to reveal Luna standing there, looking as ethereal as the ghosts surrounding her.

She raised her right hand, revealing a shiny black stone shimmering with an unworldly light.

“CHARGE!”

The ghosts let out a variety of war cries as they charged, some so old Hermione only knew them from reading ancient texts in her free time.  

Professor Binns led the charge, a wicked little dagger in his his hand, one which showed it’s lethality when the usually quite boring professor dove it into the foot of one of the remaining giants.  

She couldn’t believe her eyes.

How had Luna given the ghosts the ability to interact with the physical world?  For that’s exactly what they were doing.

The students all stood there for a moment, watching as ghosts attacked Death Eaters and dark creatures with wild abandon.  

“You really should go, you know.”

“W-w-what?”  Harry said, looking at Moaning Myrtle.

Hermione couldn’t blame him for that look.  She didn’t think Myrtle had ever left her toilet before, but she could be wrong.

Moaning Myrtle sighed, “You should go.  That bad boy that killed me came back.  Invaded my toilet and brought out his nasty pet.  The one with yellow eyes.  Now he’s killing the teachers.  Almost got me again, but I know better than to look at the eyes.  You’re a hero.  You’re supposed to stop him, right?”  She flashed him a smile, “Besides, if you die trying you can share my toilet.  Just don’t bring her.”  Myrtle pointed at Ginny and then whisked off to the lake where she began gleefully pulling any Death Eaters in and drowning them.

“Bad boy?  Nasty pet?”  Ron asked.  “Just what was she blathering on about?”

“I don’t trust her,” Ginny said, scowling after the departed ghost.

“I don’t know what the pet is, but Myrtle said something about the eyes.  And the bad boy has to be Voldemort.”  Hermione said, her mind racing.

“Has to be a basilisk.  The Dark Lord loves snakes.  And that is the King of Snakes.  Plus, my father said once about someone dying mysteriously about fifty years ago, back before my second year,” Draco said.

Hermione frowned, second year….

Why did the second year seem so important?  What had-

Fuck.

The diary.

The first horcrux.

It had wanted her to give it to a muggle-born or a blood traitor.  To release this creature?  The basilisk?

Think, what was a basilisk like?

Killer gaze, chicken egg,  hatched under a stone, death by-

“Draco!  Come with me!  Everyone else, go try to slow Voldemort down, wear a blindfold or use mirrors!  DON’T look at the basilisk’s eyes directly!”

She grabbed Draco’s hand and raced through the continuing battle to Hagrid’s Hut.

Hagrid would have a rooster, he had to.  Because it would be terrible if they had to slay the basilisk with a sword while fighting Death Eaters and Voldemort at the same time.

Really, really terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, it is the Chamber of Secrets that Voldemort went off to.  And then he unleashed the basilisk that was never dealt with.
> 
> Now, for the elephant in the room.  Mr. Nott did just casually kill Tracey.  And then Theo strangled the man that sired him.  Do you hate me?  I kind of hate myself.
> 
> Enjoy your week.  This battle isn't over yet.


	68. A Sea of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville wakes up, Harry encounters the basilisk, and Hermione and Draco collect roosters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to my betas.

Neville first became aware of the warm weight of Pansy’s soft hand in his.  He smiled through the mild throbbing in his head and gave her hand a squeeze.  Her gasp was like a needle piercing his brain, but he didn’t care.  She was here, he was here, and they were both alive.

“Pans…” he tried to say, but it came out as more of a croak.

“Here.”  A cool glass was pressed to his lips he drank deeply, cracking his eyes open, wincing at the lights hanging up high in the hospital wing.  

The glass was empty much too quickly and he sighed as it was pulled away.  

“Let me get Madam Pomfrey.”

He opened his mouth to protest her hand leaving his, but another stab of pain in his head made him gasp in pain.

What had happened?

He’d been with Luna.  They’d been watching a trap, waiting for-

Oh.

Lord Voldemort.

He remembered now.

The wall between the Shifting Room and the corridor had exploded outwards.  He remembered seeing stones flying towards their hiding place.  He’d shoved Luna away, but hadn’t been fast enough to move himself.

“Luna?” he asked, sitting up a bit, ignoring the pain in his head and looking around the room.  All of the beds were empty, though the one beside him looked a bit mussed.

Where was Luna?  Voldemort?  What was going on?

Madam Pomfrey came bustling out of her office, hands full of bags that looked to contain bandages and potion bottles.  “Good, you’re awake.”  She set the bags down on a nearby bed and moved forward, raising her wand and casting lumos.  “Follow the light.”  Neville did as she asked, watching the tip of her wand as she moved it around, even though it made his head hurt even more.  “How do you feel?”

“Head hurts.  Light isn’t good.  Where’s Luna?  Is she alright?  What have I missed?”

“You had a bad hit to the back of your skull.  You have a mild concussion.  I’ll give you a pain potion and now sleeping for at least eight hours, but you should be fine once the pain is eliminated.”  She lowered her wand and rose to dig a potion out of one of her bags.  “As for Miss Lovegood, she only had a few broken ribs, easily healed.  As for where she went, I’m afraid she refused to tell me.  Judging from all the ghosts and students she took with her though, I’m sure she’s getting herself into trouble.  Now, drink this.”  She unstoppered the small vial and handed it to him.  

He grimaced, but drank the entire potion in one gulp.  Why couldn’t pain potions actually taste good?  He was shite at potions, but surely it wasn’t too difficult for a potions master to adjust the flavor?

Blessedly the potion took effect immediately.  He groaned in relief and felt his entire body relax.

Pansy’s hand slipped back into his own and he looked over at her, giving her a small, encouraging smile.  “It’s alright, love.  Takes more than a wall to take me away from you.”

She sniffed, tears glimmering in her eyes.  “I-” she took a deep breath, “I know.  But it was so scary, seeing you there.  And then you didn’t wake up…”

He sat up the rest of the way and pulled her into his lap, cradling her close.  “I’ll always wake up.  No one is taking me away from you.  Understand?”

She nodded against his chest, holding him tightly.  He held her against him, closing his eyes and breathing in her scent.  Cinnamon, with just a hint of something more exotic.  Reminded him a bit of coconuts.  

“This is very lovely, but there’s a battle raging outside, You-Know-Who is likely still in the castle, and I’m sure my services are needed.  You two will have to come with me, I can’t leave you here alone,”  Madam Pomfrey stated, bringing Neville crashing back to reality.

Neville opened his eyes to see her standing there rather matter-of-factly, her bags once more in her arms.

Pansy clambered off his lap and Neville started to stand up, feeling much better than he knew he should.  

Pain potions were miracle workers.

“Nev, what-” Pansy started.

“Hush, love.  I can’t stay here.  Nor can you.  We’re sitting ducks.  Besides, I can’t do nothing while our friends are out there risking their lives.  Now, is my wand alright?”

Pansy’s lips pursed in a frown, but she pulled his wand out of her robes and handed it to him. He stood up slowly, just in case, and thanked providence that they hadn’t put him in hospital robes.

“Madam Pomfrey, is it really okay?”  Pansy asked, obviously seeking a denial.  Neville couldn’t blame her, after she’d been hurt he’d wanted to wrap her up in cotton and keep her safe forever.  But he wasn’t going to sit here and hide when he was capable of going out and fighting or helping in some way.  His friends needed him.

“Under these circumstances, yes.  That pain potion will last a good twelve hours and with You-Know-Who and his followers here, nowhere is truly safe.  I have to go out there and I’d rather have him nearby in case his concussion isn’t as mild as I believe it is.  So, I might as well put you two to use helping me.  Now, take this.”  She handed one bag to Neville and the other to Pansy, then strode over to her office.  She emerged less a moment later with more bags.  “Let’s go.”

Neville gave Pansy a comforting smile before following after the mediwitch, ignoring the way the world didn’t quite focus as clearly as it usually did.

He would fine.  They would be fine.

It had to be.

XXX

Harry cursed under his breath as Hermione and Draco ran off.  He really wished she’d stop to explain herself sometimes.  He knew even more about defending himself than she did, but he had to admit most of that was aimed towards magical beings, not magical creatures.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”  Ron asked, hefting his sword.

Harry gave his head a  sharp shake and stopped watching his sister, choosing instead to send her a surge of love through their bond.  A moment later it was followed by just as much love, as well as an image of all them at the Weasley’s last Christmas.   

The message was clear.

He took a fortifying breath and raised his wand.

“Nothing.  Let’s go.”

He took off running, dodging Death Eaters, spells, and giants on the way.  If he closed his eyes he was sure he could pretend this was just a training exercise at the Academy, but he didn’t dare do that.  There had been too many close calls, there was no way he could let himself relax for a moment.

Not if he wanted them all to live through this.

XXX

Luna grinned and danced on her toes, watching the ghosts turn the tide of the battle.  This was so much better than she had hoped.  She’d set out trying to create another Resurrection Stone.  There was someone very special she wanted to speak with.  She knew better than to keep a dead person on this plane, that they’d be able to truly speak later, when her own grand adventure was finished.

But it would be nice to say goodbye.  To let her father say goodbye.

It would also be nice to let her friends speak to those they had lost.  To let Harry and Hermione meet the parents they had never known.  To let Draco make amends with his father.  To help Theo come to peace with losing his mother so young.

But that wasn’t to be.

She’d failed to accomplish her goal, however, she’d managed to make something different, something wonderful.

And that was alright, too.  The ghosts of Hogwarts had a right to defend their home just as much as the students did.

Maybe, one day, she’d find the Resurrection Stone, but it wasn’t time yet.  

“LUNA!”

Ron’s scream cut off her musing and she spun to see a half-transformed werewolf charging right at her, murder in her eyes.

The world slowed down as Luna raised her wand, but before she could open her mouth the werewolf was on her.  Luna’s mouth opened to scream, her hands coming up to cover her throat, protecting it from the woman’s sharp teeth and savage half-claws.  But she was unable to protect her middle.

Pain lashed through her, worse than anything she had ever felt.  It was, in many ways, hard to think, and yet, in others it was just so easy.  

In a single instant she understood why she’d been able to create a Resurrection Stone, and yet, just as quickly, she lost that information.  

She blinked.

And the woman was gone, ripped away and stabbed straight through the heart with a glittering sword.

Bright blue lights filled her vision, floating under a sea of red.

She smiled, the world narrowing down to those splendid blue lights.

“Ron.”

“GINNY!  HARRY!  COVER ME!”

Those blue lights swam through her vision as she felt her entire body rise up.  Was this what it felt like to die?  It was so peaceful.  Was this how her mother had felt?  It had looked so terrible, but had it felt that way?

Her world shifted a bit then, turning a corner and giving her an entirely new perspective.

She was flying, being lifted up by those beautiful blue lights.

She’d always loved the color blue.  It was such a versatile color.  Happy in one light, sad in another.  So much like life.

“DON’T YOU DARE DIE!  STAY WITH ME LUNA!  PLEASE!”

Words she barely understood tumbled out of the air under those blue lights, but she paid them no heed.

The world gave a solid jerk and a ribbon of pain snaked into Luna’s life.  She gasped and her entire body jerked.

Funny, she hadn’t thought she had a body anymore.

Those blue lights, once again under a sea of red jerked downwards and something hard and cold pressed into Luna’s once more existant side.  

But she paid it no mind, for, it was at that moment that those blue lights grew dim and she was falling into an ocean of darkness, trapped in a cage that could offer no comfort.

XXX

It was all Harry could do to keep up with Ron.  His best friend raced through the Entrance Hall, heading straight for the stairs leading upwards.  Obviously in search of the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey.

Luna was cradled in his arms, the silver sword clutched tightly in Ron’s hand as he did his best not to hit his love with it; werewolf blood still dripping from the blade.

Harry felt sick, seeing the trail of blood following Ron.  How could Luna still be alive?  Did anyone have that much blood?

Ginny was beside him, keeping pace, her face twisted in worry that mirrored his own.  The castle was eerily silent as they moved through it, raising red flags and making him extremely nervous.

Ron rounded a corner and disappeared from view.  

Instantly Harry knew something was wrong.  He could never explain how or why, but he knew something was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

He skidded to a halt, reaching out and grabbing Ginny’s arm, yanking her to a stop alongside him.  She turned, fury lighting up her face, ready to rip him a new one, but she stopped instantly, hearing what he did.

Slithering.

Harry’s heart ached, knowing what this meant.  

Ron.

Luna.

He wanted to cry.

But he couldn’t.  Not now.  

The basilisk was here.  Around the corner from Ginny and him.

That drew him up short for a second.  

The basilisk was a snake.  Harry had always heard snakes.  But now he couldn’t.

The horcrux.  It had to be.  Voldemort had let Harry talk to snakes, and that gift was now gone to him.

Not the best time to learn that, but there was no time for regrets.

He reached out and gripped Ginny’s hand tightly, pulling her in for a quick kiss.  “Keep your eyes shut.  I don’t-” He pressed another kiss to her, drawing strength from her touch. “I don’t know how we can do this.  We-we have to distract it.  I’ll try to draw it away. “  The slithering grew louder and he sped up his words.  “Hide.  Save Luna.  When it’s clear.  If you can.  If-well-you know.  Tell ‘Mione where I go.  Please,” he said, stopping her words, “no arguing.”

Ginny nodded, tears in her eyes as the slithering was almost on top of them.  She turned and ran, ducking behind a wall covering.  

Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes and turned around.  “ _Obscuro_ ,” he whispered, aiming his wand at his head.  Instantly a blindfold wrapped itself tightly over his eyes, making him safer.  He listened for a moment, then turned and ran, making sure to noisily knock over a suit of armor they’d just passed.

A loud hiss swept through the air, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  The sound of scales moving across stone increased and Harry pushed himself to  run faster, too scared of reflective surfaces to raise the blindfold and see where he was going.  

His right hand gripped his wand tightly and he cast as many reductos as he could behind him, blindly hoping to hit the king of snakes.  His left arm was stuck out, running along the corridor wall until it hit empty air.  He turned, stumbling on stairs, just barely catching his balance and continuing upwards.  

He emerged from the staircase and kept running, hearing the snake behind him struggling up the stairs.  His boots pounded down the stone floors, drowning out his panicked thoughts.  His left arm was once again stuck out, searching for another staircase, anything to slow the snake down.  

He rounded a corner, his fingers barely notifying him in time, only to crash into a warm body.  The sounds of breaking glass followed him to the ground and he yelped, struggling to regain his feet, yanking the blindfold up off his head.

Staring down at him in shock was Madam Pomfrey and Neville.  Pansy sat on the ground, surrounded by broken potions, looking at him in confusion.

The sound of hissing grew louder and Harry jumped into motion.

“C’mon!  It’s a bloody basilisk!  RUN!”

He jumped to his feet, grabbing Pansy’s hands and yanking her along with him.

A nearby door caught his eye and he yanked it open, shoving a stunned Pansy inside before turning back to Madam Pomfrey and Neville.

“Go on!  Hide!  Then go down!  Ginny needs help!!!”

Neville opened his mouth to argue, but Madam Pomfrey didn’t give him a chance.  She grabbed him and yanked him inside, slamming the door shut.

Harry yanked the blindfold back down and took off running again, just as the king of snakes rounded the corner.

XXX

Draco was fast, but Hermione in a mad panic was even faster.  He’d forgotten just how fast she could be.  It was like their fifth year all over again.

And that thought filled him with fear.  He never wanted to see Hermione looking so helpless in a hospital bed ever again.

She led him across the grounds and towards the gamekeeper’s hut.  He thought she planned to run inside of it, but, instead she ran around to the chicken coop.  And that was when the spark ignited his brain.

Of course.

A rooster.

The sound of it was deadly to a basilisk.

_You’re bloody brilliant, Hermione._

She yanked open the coop door, making her wand light up.

_No.  I just remember things.  Now, hurry, grab any and all roosters.  Stick them in your bag.  They should be safe until we get to the basilisk._

_Right._

They moved quickly, stunning chickens left and right, digging out the handful of roosters and stuffing them safely in their bottomless bags.  

In less than two minutes they were back outside, racing towards the castle.  They didn’t have to dodge much as the ghosts seemed to have broken the moral of the Death Eaters.

Who wouldn’t run upon learning a ghost could stab them?

Draco followed behind Hermione, letting her watch the front while he kept his eyes on their flanks, ensuring no one could get the jump on them.

He was so focused that it utterly surprised him when Hermione came to an abrupt halt.  He found himself barely able to avoid running into her, instead stumbling over the ground and twisting to one side.  Recovering just in time to have a high, maniacal laugh cut through the sounds of battle, making his blood run cold and his stomach flip in nausea.

Hermione never took her eyes away from the figures standing in the entryway to the castle, even as she reached a hand down and helped him to his feet.

“Seeking to secure your claim to my birthright, mudblood?”  Bellatrix’s voice was cold, laced with something that Draco could only describe as madness.

_I love you._

She jerked in surprise, but didn’t look away from his aunt, giving his hand a small squeeze in a response that told him nothing.

“You have no birthright, only what you earn.  But, if we want to get down to social pedantics, we could just say that you robbed me of my own birthright.  It’s only right that I take yours.”

That made Bellatrix light up with fury.  “You have no birthright!!!  You’re a mudblood!!!”

“So?  The Queen is a muggle.  Yet you still count yourself proud to be British.”  

Bellatrix's face grew red and she reached down with her left hand, drawing a nasty silver knife.  Hermione’s gaze flickered to the knife, and then jerked back up to Bellatrix’s face.

Draco gave her hand a comforting squeeze even as his uncle, Rodolphus, rested a calming hand on Bellatrix’s shoulder.

“You recognize this knife.  Don’t you?  You recognized it back at Christmas, too.  Do you know how many nasty mudbloods I’ve killed with this?”

“Just one is too many,” Draco shot out, before Hermione could find a response.

Bellatrix sneered and then spat, a glob of spittle landing at Draco’s feet.  “Quiet, nephew.  Or I’ll do to you what I did to your father.”

An image of his father, boiling from the inside out, resurfaced and Draco felt sick.  “You-you killed him?” he choked out.

She laughed.  “Of course I did.  He rebelled against my lord.  He had to die.”

“How did you know?”

Hermione’s question drew Bellatrix’s attention back to her.

“How did I know what?”

“Where I lived?  That I was a witch?”

Bellatrix snorted, “You’re no witch.”

“I told her.” Rodolphus said.  “A good friend of mine was an obliviator.  He kindly kept a list of all incidents involving muggleborns.” He shrugged, “It was nothing personal, but we did need to lower the number of muggleborns, and Bellatrix is much happier when I give her presents.  Isn’t that right love?”  He gazed fondly down at the witch at his side.

She grinned, showing that madness once more as she reached up to fondly pat his cheek.  “You’re such a dear.  My lord did good work when he picked you for me.”

Rodolphus smiled back and kissed Bellatrix’s forehead.  

Draco wanted to be sick.

“Now, how about another present, love?”

“Ooo, what did you get me this time?”

“An art show.”

Rodolphus was so quick on the draw that the spell hit Hermione square in the chest before she could even cast a shield.  The same went for Draco.

She screamed and Draco turned, fear filling him, only to freeze at the sight before him.  The spell was doing no physical harm to Hermione.  Rather, it was burning away her  robes.  In an eerily similar manner to the method Neville and Pansy had used on Umbridge.

In no time at all Hermione was standing there in nothing but her brassiere and knickers, her scars bared for all the world to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you still not hate me?
> 
> If not, hold on tight. This isn't over yet.


	69. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred catches up with the rest of the Order. Ginny goes to help her best friend. Hermione faces Bellatrix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my betas :)

Fred spun his broom, wand at the ready, only to find no one to attack.  All that lay below him in the road were dead bodies.  He spotted a few broomsticks among them, but a quick scan of the air around him showed that his brothers and Diggory were still there, hovering nearby.  There were a few other Order members still on brooms, but they were moving away, heading once more towards the castle.

“Everyone alright?” Diggory asked.

“My broom is a bit singed, but otherwise, I’m fine,” Fred said, feeling Skeeter scurrying around under his collar, likely gathering as much information as she could.

“I’m a bit singed,” Charlie held up his left hand, showing a nasty burn, “but nothing compared to what that Horntail did to me last month.”

“Nothing touched me, what about you Diggory?” Bill asked, rising up over the tops of the trees and looking around.

“I’m good, though I don’t think I can ever wear these robes again.”  He held out his cloak, showing long tears in it.

“I can still see more fighting, up by the gates,” Bill called down.  “Let’s go if everyone is good.”

Everyone was, so they quickly moved out, reaching the gates in a matter of minutes.  What they saw made Fred’s stomach churn.

There were a few Death Eaters still standing, but they were not attacking the Order members.  No, all of them were now focused on the giant spiders quickly pouring out of the trees, obviously drawn by all of the commotion.  As Fred watched one spider, the size of a large dog, leapt onto the back of a Death Eater, driving it’s fangs into the man’s shoulders as he screamed.

A flash of silver caught his eyes and he saw Mrs. Malfoy, silver shield raised, fighting off a large spider.  Alianore was at her back and casting fire spell after fire spell at the incoming swarms of little, mice sized spiders.

“BURN THEM!”

The shout, followed by a burst of flames drew Fred’s attention.  Padfoot was back-to-back with Mrs. Longbottom and they were intent on lighting the entire forest on fire it appeared.

“Let’s go!!!” Bill shouted, swinging his broom down and casting a reducto at a new wave of spiders pouring in out of the forest.

Diggory and Charlie flew after Bill, casting their own spells, alternating between fire and blasts.  

Fred threw his own spells, racing over the sea of spiders and fighting the urge to be sick.  He wasn’t as terrified of spiders as Ron, but he still had nightmares over the image of a teddy bear sized spider crawling over his baby brother.  

That little bit of magic had been courtesy of George.  Fred would have made a worm or something equally gross that wasn’t quite so able to attack and kill people.  One of the few times he had been upset at his brother.  Especially as their mother had blamed both of them equally.

It wasn’t enough, even with all the fire and blasts, the spiders still kept coming.  Every death seemed to enrage the creatures even more.  Over their screams and the sounds of spells being fired a new sound came to Fred’s ears.

Something was coming through the trees

Something big.

He swung into a curve, blowing up a spider as it tried to leap on Tonks and Mooney.  He could feel his thighs start to shake, he hadn’t spent this long on a broom since he’d left Hogwarts last year.  

CRASH!!!

The sound drew his attention, as it did everyone else’s.

The sight chilled him to the bone.

There, on the edge of the woods, stood the largest spider Fred had ever seen.  It’s eyes were milky white and it was the size of an elephant.  Scurrying around it’s feet were even more small spiders, chittering and leading the monstrous spider.

“Leave my children alone,” the spider said, its pincers clicking as it continued moving forwards.

“Fuck,” Fred whispered.

“Your children started this!”  Padfoot bellowed.  “Tell them to leave US alone!  We have no quarrel with you!”

“Wait,” the spider said, coming to a stop on the edge of the road.

Instantly all of the spiders pulled back, moving away from those they had been attacking.  Fred felt bile rise in his throat at the now visible bodies.  All of them frozen from poison and turning nasty colors.

“Will you withdraw?” Mrs. Longbottom asked, her wand still held at the ready.

“My children had no knowledge of fire.  No true knowledge of humans, for Hagrid is not typical of your species.  Our home was disturbed and they came seeking out the disturbance.  We will withdraw, especially with what is loose in the castle, but my children are hungry.  I ask that we may take the bodies of those we have already felled.  You may have our own dead.  I know that you humans prize our venom.”

Fred clenched his broom tightly.  Padfoot couldn’t agree to this.  He couldn’t let the giant talking spiders eat the dead witches and wizards.  He was carefully not looking at the faces of the fallen, but that was simply because he knew he would recognize too many of them.  It only took a search of those still standing to see just how many weren’t there.  Names flashed through his mind, but he shut them down.  Thinking of death would not help those he loved that still lived.  Nor would letting the spiders take their dead, it just wasn’t right.

Padfoot let out a harsh bark of laughter.  “You want us to let you take our dead?”

“Of course.  It is only fair,” the elephant-sized spider said, his pincers moving rapidly, as if he wanted to reach out and bit Padfoot.

Padfoot looked around the body littered road and then up in the air at all the wizards and witches on broomsticks.  For an instant his eyes met Fred’s,  then they shot down to the drawstring bag hanging from his belt.  One eyebrow went up, clearly offering a question that only one prankster would ask another.

Fred knew that look well.  He’d seen it quite often on George’s face.  Though, usually then it was followed by a mental question.

He quirked his lips and winked, reaching down into his pouch, calling a small box marked with a red circle into his hand.

Padfoot’s head barely moved, the nod of acknowledgement was so small.  He turned back around to face the king of all spiders.  

“It may be fair to you, but not to us.  So, my answer is no.  Retreat now, or die.”

The many spiders began chittering angrily, bristling at the human’s ultimatum.  

“Merlin damn it, Padfoot!  Just let them have the bodies!  Our children are in the castle with the Dark Lord!” Mrs. Malfoy hissed, her voice just barely visible to Fred, now hovering above them.

“And what if it was our children lying here?  Among the dead?” Padfoot hissed back, not letting his gaze waver from the spiders.

Mrs. Malfoy opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the King of Spiders.

“My children are hungry.  You have awoken that which we fear most.  We will slay you all and take your bodies to feast on as we journey far away from the Monster of Hogwarts.  Goodbye, little humans.”

The great spider moved with remarkable speed, raising itself up and firing a glob of sticky web right at Alianore and Mrs. Longbottom just as the rest of the spiders charged as one.

Spells erupted everywhere, throwing bursts of flames high into the air, but Fred  ignored it all.  He yanked the box out of his bag and leaned low over his broom speeding forwards, dropping the box into the bubbling sea of spiders pouring from around the giant spider’s legs.

The box fell, and before it disappeared from view he raised his wand and cast the unlocking spell.  

The earth rose up under the box, sending spiders tumbling as it widened and opened, accepting the box into its gaping maw.  

The box disappeared, but Fred didn’t wait to watch, he spun his broom around and raced away, reaching blindly into his bag and pulling out one of his many bags of powders.  He sprinkled it as he flew over the King of Spiders, coating him in fine dust that, with the application of heat, would grow in weight.

The mountain of earth behind him gave a loud belch, followed by a cloud of smoke and ashes.  The spiders paid it no mind, but Fred could see the humans backing up, fighting spiders as they went.

A flash of silver moving in the wrong direction caught his eye.

“NO!!!”

Padfoot’s shout was barely heard over the sound of spells, but Fred zeroed in on it.  Seeing Diggory do the same.  As he grew closer the mountain became more of a volcano, spewing out hot rocks as lava began to flow down it’s side.  Nearby spiders began to scream in pain.

But Fred wasn’t watching the last project he’d been working on George with.  He didn’t really care at the moment about its success.  All he had wanted was something that would help end this battle with the spiders without any more deaths.

No, he was watching Mrs. Malfoy hold off spiders as Padfoot tried to cut sticky web off of two figures lying at her feet.

He landed on the ground with a thunk.  “ _REDUCTO_!”

Spiders flew into the air, falling in the lava that was now pouring down the side of the volcano.

“We have to go!”

“I know that!” Padfoot bit out, sawing through the web.  

Fred pulled a potion vial out of his drawstring bag and sprinkled it over the web, watching as the glue dissolved, the spider silk falling away in waves.  Revealing Mrs. Longbottom and Alianore lying there.

Fred’s heart lurched as he saw that they were unmoving.  They had either suffocated or been bitten.

He doubted they were even alive.

The older man began shoving the silk away until he could pick up Alianore.  He looked up at Fred.  “What are you waiting for!  Grab Alice!”

Diggory landed beside Fred, his wand moving as he spun around in a circle, a wall of flames quickly encircling them all.  Holding back the spiders, but not the oncoming lava.

Mrs. Malfoy lowered her shield and stepped back.

“Sirius-”

“NO!  They’re not dead!  There’s an antidote!”

Tears were streaking down the older man’s face and Fred looked way.  His own grief too near the surface for him to face someone else’s.

“Mr. Black, I don’t think there’s an antidote.”  Diggory said calmly, kneeling down and putting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Sirius.  I don’t think they were bitten.  Look at their faces.  They suffocated.  It's been almost five minutes since they were covered in spider silk.  We need to go.  Our children need us.  Alice’s son needs us.  Alianore’s old students need us,” Narcissa said as she came up to wrap an arm around Padfoot.  “Hermione and Harry need you.  There are monsters after them.”

The older man let out a gut-wrenching sob, cradling the red-headed woman close.  He leaned down, kissing that still cheek and then laid her back on the ground.  He stared down at her for a moment, then over at Mrs. Longbottom.  When he looked up his face was as if it was carved from stone and there was fire burning in his eyes.

“You’re right.  Let’s go.”  He looked at Fred, “Mind giving me a lift out of here?  Diggory can you fly Narcissa out?”

“Yes, sir,” the two younger men chorused.

Skeeter scurried around under Fred’s collar, but didn’t reveal herself as Padfoot mounted the broom behind Fred.  

“Wait.  Let them go first.”

Fred stood up a bit and watched as Mrs. Malfoy mounted the broom behind Diggory.  The two of them leapt into the air and disappeared into the smoke-filled night sky.

Padfoot raised his wand cast a spell Fred didn’t recognize, but it’s meaning was clear.  A dome of light covered the two bodies for a second before washing down and around them, covering them in a shiny light.

A preservation charm.

They pushed off from the ground just as the lava came spilling over the circle of flames that Diggory had created, washing over the glittering bodies and hiding them from view as they rose into the air.

The screams of spiders were all that filled the air now.  All of the surviving people having long fled, apparated out now that it was certain that the spiders could not join the battle on the castle grounds.

“NO!!!” the King of Spiders screamed as he watched his children burn.  He seemed to know that he could not escape either.  The volcano was now spewing lava even faster, creating a molten lake that was quickly encircling the giant spider.  He spun in place, scurrying as fast as his large body would let him.  

“Hold.”

Fred had been about to send them speeding towards the castle, he didn’t really want to watch a giant, sentient spider die, but clearly Padfoot did.

“I don’t-”

“If you could watch the dementor that kissed George die, wouldn’t you?”

Fred snapped his mouth shut.  Thrown by this question.  Could he?  Could he take pleasure in watching the creature die that had killed his other half?

Was that even a fair question?  As far as he knew, it was almost impossible to kill a dementor.  

The spider let out a scream as the lava touched its long legs.

That made up his mind.

He raised his wand and cast the spell to deactivate the volcano, the heat would kill the spider soon enough.  Then he spun the broom and aimed it directly at the Castle, Skeeter moved under his collar.  It felt like she was burrowing into the cloth, as if trying to block out the screams.  

Fred wished he could join her.

He leaned over, speeding off towards the Castle and distant spellcasting.  Ignoring Padfoot’s orders to turn back.

There was no point in avenging the dead.  It was much better to protect the living.

XXX

Ginny’s heart was pounding so hard in her ears that she barely heard the sound of scales moving across stone.  It was all she could do not to cry as she gripped her wand tightly and did nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

How could this be happening?

How could it be right for her to stand there and do nothing?

No!  She had to-

Loud hissing cut off her thoughts and her breath caught in her throat, her eyes glued to the tapestry over her hiding place.  She didn’t dare move.  Didn’t dare breathe.  

The hissing ended, but the sounds that came next were even worse.  A sharp, high-pitched laugh pierced the tapestry, bouncing around in the stones surrounding her.

“What is it, My Lord?”  The voice was feminine, even girly, and made the hairs on the back of Ginny’s neck stand on end.

“Potter.  He is fleeing my pet here.  We shall deal with him.”

“We, My Lord?” A male voice asked.

“Yes, my pets and I.  We are all that is needed to deal with a boy who has just run out of luck.”

“Then what should we do, my lord?” the woman asked again.

“I care not.  Though I do wonder what has become of my reinforcements.  I want Hogwarts in our control by dawn.  Understood?”

The man and the woman quickly said, “Yes, my lord.”

There was a swish of robes, followed by more slithering, and Ginny slowly released her breath.  Only to sharply inhale again upon hearing the woman speak once more.

“Where is Kevan?”

“He said something about unsettled family business.”

“Ah,” the woman said, the sound almost a moan of pleasure.  “If he is dealing with family business, why don’t we copy him?  I am sure the mudblood brat must be here somewhere.”

“Indeed, she should not be far from Potter.”

The woman laughed a bit and, thankfully, the laughter grew more distant as the two of them walked off.

Ginny counted to fifty and then slowly raised the tapestry with her wand raised.  

The corridor was blessedly empty.

Heart still pounding, she raced around the corner.  Then stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her.

Ron lay as if made of stone, his arms curved protectively around Luna, the silver sword beside him.  His eyes were open and glassy, unseeing of all that lay before them.

She had to fight down a sob and turned her attention to Luna.

That sight gave her hope.

Blood still covered her friend, but there seemed to be no new blood and her chest was moving up and down in narrow breaths.

Ginny threw herself to the floor, reaching between her brother and her best friend, carefully raising bits of ragged, bloody cloth.

What she saw made her gasp in shock.

Under those tattered strips of cloth was not skin torn open by a half-transformed werewolf.  The skin had obviously been torn once, there were plenty of scars, but all of them looked months old at least.

“How-” she started, before stopping and looking in surprise at her brother.  

Had to be family magic.  When her mum had given her ‘the talk’ a few years ago she’d explained that she’d never bound her Prewett magic.  How each of her children had a mixture of Prewett and Weasley magic, but that the particulars were different for each of them.  There were numerous quirks to both families, but the common ground was that both families believed in protecting those that needed it and that family was important.

Bill kept quiet on his own magic, but it was suspected in the family that he was such a good curse-breaker because he was focused on making safe places.  He had certainly spent enough years in his childhood babysitting his younger siblings and making sure they didn’t mess with things they shouldn’t.  Charlie had admitted once that pain never bothered him when it was earned while helping those that needed it.  Since he helped dragons, that was likely a good thing.  Percy was a mystery, he never spoke of his.  As for the twins, their odd connection was caused by their family magic, her Mum said.  It made Ginny’s heart hurt, wondering what pain Fred was now going through.  Her own magic became much stronger when she was protecting others.  She hadn’t yet noticed if it was even stronger when protecting family, but that was a definite possibility.  As for Ron….well, he’d never shown anything besides a better ability in Charms than all of his classmates.  Something they had all displayed.

But if he could heal…

That was powerful and now it was-

She bit back a sob, yanking her eyes away from Ron and back to Luna before the sword caught her gaze.

Luna was alive right now, and there was no way Ginny could remove her from Ron’s frozen arms without breaking one.  

Something, even in death, she was unwilling to do.

She looked around, searching for a place to hide the two of them, only to stop when the sound of footsteps reached her.

They were moving quickly down a nearby staircase, so it couldn’t be the two death eaters she’d listened to earlier.  Perhaps it was the mysterious Kevan she’d heard of earlier.

With no time to hide she placed herself between the footsteps and her fallen loved ones.  She raised her wand and took a dueling stance, just as Alianore had taught her.

Whoever it was, let them come.

She was ready.

XXX

Hermione stood frozen, her world narrowed down to the fact that she had no robes on.  

She had no robes on.

No sleeves.

No stockings.

No trousers.

Her limbs were bare.

Completely bare.

She wanted to cry, to scream, to cover herself and run from the field.

And she might have done just that, or she might not have.  It was hard to tell what she would or wouldn’t have done.  Because before she could make up her mind either way an intense pain surged through her hand.  She looked down, following the lines of words until she reached that small sentence in her own handwriting.

I must respect authority.

The words were lined, above and below, by thin, pale fingers.

Her eyes traced those fingers up to a narrow wrist that disappeared beneath black sleeves.

Sleeves.

She wished she had sleeves.

Sleeves were a wonderful thing.

Her eyes continued up those sleeves to a handsome, aristocratic face.

She knew that face well.  She’d seen it smile at her, seen it laugh, seen it wrinkle up in disgust, grow pouty, seen it twisted in pain, once she’d even seen it torn apart by tears.

This face showed none of those emotions.  No, this time it was screwed into a most gruesome expression.  

For half a second she thought it was aimed at her.

Aimed at her scars.

But, no, it was not aimed at her.

She followed that gaze, the pain in her hand - which she now realized was from him squeezing it - keeping her focused.

His hatred was pointed towards the two people that had done this to her.

_Why?_

His gaze didn’t waver from the other couple, but his hand relaxed a bit.

_Because they hurt you._

That surprised her in a way.  Not that he was angry that they hurt her, but more the extent of his anger.  She didn’t think anyone had ever been this angry on her behest before.

_Don’t you care about the scars?_

Now he did look at her.  His gaze meeting hers before dropping to her limbs, examining them, reading every word before once more grabbing hold of her amber gaze with his own silver one.

_Do you want me to care?_

_You should.  I care._

_I care.  Just not in the way you think._

_What do you mean?_

_I care, because they’re a part of you.  They prove how strong you are, how much you’ve been through, how evil these two are._

_You don’t find them disgusting?_

_No.  They’re a part of you.  And I most certainly don’t find you disgusting.  Didn’t my behavior in our little classroom earlier this evening prove that?  Not to mention all the times before?_

She felt her cheeks flush.

_You proved it._

_Good.  Then how about we get rid of these two and go save your brother and our friends?  Afterwards I’ll help you obliviate everyone that saw my girlfriend in her knickers.  Only certain people are allowed that privilege.  Primarily me._

She grinned, her body coming back to life as her world grew broader.  She still hated her scars.  Was utterly disgusted by them and the words they contained, but the knowledge that one of the people she lov-cared about the most in the world didn’t view them with disgust or pity gave her the ability to ignore them for the first time in her life.

_Let’s do this.  Who do you want?_

“What’s this? Is the little mudblood petrified?”  Bellatrix cooed.

“She’s likely in awe of your work,” Rodolphus cooed right back.

_Not going to demand Bellatrix?  She did kill your parents._

Draco’s internal voice was tinged with surprise.

She shrugged.

_She also killed your father._

“Point.”

Draco’s word made the Lestrange couple blink in surprise and Hermione wanted to laugh, so she did.

The sound seemed to unnerve the other couple, who took a hesitant step back, looking utterly confused.

_Well?_

Draco didn’t respond immediately, instead he drew a silver dagger with his left hand and raised his wand in the other.

Hermione admired the dagger for a moment, wondering where he had gotten it.

_Take the one you want.  I think I hate them about equally at the moment._

Hermione grinned and took up a dueling stance.  Rage boiled under the surface, but she didn’t let it out, not in the way it wanted to be released.  She didn’t want to lose control this time.

“Well, Bellatrix, looks like it’s just you and me.”

The older woman blinked in surprise before letting out a tentative laugh and assuming her own dueling stance.

“Silly girl, neither of us are alone.  Love, be a dear and finish off my nephew.  We need to prune the Black family tree.”

Rodolphus grinned and took up a dueling stance.  “With pleasure, my love.”

_Draco?_

_Please, don’t get upset.  Old Malfoy spell I tweaked._

_What-_

“ _Umbris Echo!_ ”

The world spun and when it came to a stop she gasped for breath, looking around.  She was still standing in front of the castle in just her knickers.  

Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked around, obviously confused.  It was second later that the results of Draco’s spell came out.

“HERMIONE! RUN!” A woman’s voice screamed.  

She recognized it well, she’d heard it too many times in her own nightmares.

“You think your brat can run? From me?! Stupid bitch!”  Bellatrix cackled.

“Ma-ma?”

The childish voice made her breath catch and she looked over at Draco, who looked slightly surprised at this.

There was nothing for a moment, and the four of them simply stood there.  

“NO!”

Hermione’s young voice pierced the night and something swelled up inside of her older self.  Screams, both mother and daughter, rang through the night and Hermione found herself losing it as Bellatrix gained a look of pleasure.

She knew this moment.  This was when she had gained all the scars.  She’d relieved it so many times….

_Why?_

Tears burned her eyes as she asked Draco the question.

_Because.  You defeat her here.  I know the tale.  My mother made me sit down and listen to it.  Though at the time she said nothing of scars._

_Why?_

She repeated, still not  understanding as the screams died down.

_You held her off as a toddler.  I wanted to remind her of that.  And remind you.  If you did that then, with no wand.  What can you do now?  Tell me and I’ll cancel the spell._

“Time to die!” the past Bellatrix called out.

The current Bellatrix laughed and repeated the words, raising her wand and pointing it at her Hermione.

“NO!”

Hermione’s breath caught and her eyes widening.  Her nightmares had never reached this far before.

_No.  Don’t cancel.  I’m angry, we have to talk.  But after I kill this bitch._

“No?  You stupid little mudblood.  No one tells Bellatrix no.  Besides, you’re next.”

The current Bellatrix echoed the past one, a wild look coming into her eyes.  

“NO!”

The young shout did something to this Bellatrix.  She shuddered, her eyes growing wide as she absently reached down, touching her thigh.

She remembered now.  She’d stabbed the bitch there, with her own knife.  Hermione wasn’t the only one that had walked away with scars from that night.

“Alright then, you can be first,” the past Bellatrix hissed as the current one’s head began to shake in denial.

_Here._

Draco pressed his knife into her hand.  She took it, staring down at it for a moment.  Her bare, scarred arms drew her gaze, the words carved their in white, puckered skin.  She'd spent so long avoiding her scars.  Both mental and physical.

Maybe it was time to finally put them to rest. 

Yes. 

She'd make it simple and clean.  She wasn't a monster.

No, she was simply seeing justice done.

“Hermione!”

Her mother’s voice, echoing through time from that long ago night propelled Hermione forward.  She closed the distance between herself and her parents’ murderer, even as her younger voice began chanting, “No!” over and over again.

Bellatrix’s past screams of rage were now echoed by screams of fear as the current Bellatrix stood there, arms hanging limply at her side, utterly lost in the past as she watched that ancient silver dagger slide cleanly between her ribs, piercing the little bit of heart she still had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think about how Bellatrix was dealt with?


	70. Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The snakes are dealt with.

Rodolphus had simply been standing there, his wand trained on Draco, but doing nothing as he listened in awe to the voices of long ago.  This ended when Draco pressed his dagger into Hermione’s hand.  His eyes widened and his arm drew back, preparing to cast a spell even as Hermione took off, holding the dagger low, ready to slip it between Bellatrix’s ribs.

Draco moved then, trying to make up for his earlier failure at stopping the man, his uncle, from casting a spell and harming Hermione.

“ _ Expelliarmus _ !”

Light shot out of Draco’s wand, hitting his uncle full in the chest and sending his wand flying up into the air.  Rodolphus stood there for a half-second, staring stupidly at his now empty hand, not even thinking to reach over and yank his wife out of Hermione’s way.  

Bellatrix’s mouth opened in a soundless scream as the knife pierced her heart, her own wand and dagger falling to the ground seconds before she did.

Hermione landed on top of the recently deceased witch and Rodolphus moved, reaching down to grab her, rage and grief twisting his face, but he never had time to lay a finger on her.

“ _ Stupefy _ !” Draco roared, moving forwards.

The man crumpled and Hermione slowly sat back up, her face pale even as she panted for breath.  She looked up at Draco and he didn’t think he’d ever seen her look more beautiful.

He smiled, “You alright?”

She thought for a moment, looking down at her bare limbs, before slowly nodding.  “You know, I think I am.”

He reached down a hand and helped her up, “Good.  Because this isn’t over yet.  We’ve still got some roosters that need to go meet a snake.  Not to mention the Dark Lord.”

She bent down and yanked the dagger out of Bellatrix’s chest, wiping it off on the dead woman’s robes before handing it to him.  “You’re right.  Tie him up and I’ll find some clothes.  I think I have a few muggle pieces stuck away in my bag.” She gestured to where it had fallen on the ground when her clothes disappeared.  “For just in case.”

Draco proceeded to do as she asked, keeping a careful eye out as she pulled a pair of muggle jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt that said something about Minding the Gap.  He wondered at it, but didn’t care enough to ask.

“Ready?” he asked as he checked the tightness of the ropes on Rodolphus.  

“Yes.” She grabbed her drawstring bag and tied it to a belt loop.  She stared down at Bellatrix’s dagger on the ground and then promptly levitated it with her wand.  A swish and the dagger went flying out over the lake before dropping like a rock.  “Let’s go.”

They were almost at the door to the castle when a voice called out.

“Draco!  Hermione!”

The two of them stopped and turned, keeping their wands at the ready.  A broomstick with two figures on it came swooping down.  As it landed Cedric Diggory and his mother clambered off.  Draco could see another broomstick approaching, though it was not nearly as close.

Draco found it suddenly very hard to breathe as he was abruptly enveloped in his mother’s arms.  He grimaced, but didn’t pull back, knowing she must have been terribly worried about him.

He was on the verge of passing out when she released him and immediately swept Hermione into a tight hug.  Hermione held herself stiff as a board and pulled out of the hug faster than Draco had ever managed to do.

“Are you alright?” his mother asked them, looking over at the dead Bellatrix.

“Yes, but we need to go.  Harry needs us.”

His mother  nodded looking out over the battlefield, watching in mild interest as a ghost tried - unsuccessfully - to stab a Death Eater.  Draco got a bad feeling at that sight.

When had the ghosts found themselves unable to touch those that lived?  Had Luna ended the spell?  Or was she-

No.  

There was no way this world could kill someone as innocently devious as Luna Lovegood.  It just wouldn’t be fair.

“Do you need our assistance?” His mother asked, barely pointedly turning her back on her dead sister..

_ Do we? _

Hermione shook her head.  “No.  The Order needs to stay here, protect the students that are still fighting.  We’ll deal with it.”

Mr. Black frowned, “Who are we?”

“We are the New Marauders.  Right, Dragon?”  She looked at Draco.

“Right, Phoenix,” he said, wondering why she was saying their code names out loud.

“Good, then let’s go.  Prongslet and the others need us.”  She turned to go, but was stopped by his mother reaching out and grabbing her by the arm.  “Yes?”

“You really don’t want us going?”  It was Diggory who asked, disbelief on his features.

Hermione shook her head, “No, you’re needed out here.  To prevent any more deaths.  We’ve got this.”

Diggory  opened his mouth to protest, but Draco’s mother sent him a look and he frowned harder, but nodded and remounted his broom.   “I’ll be off then. I see Cho.”  He kicked off the ground, wand at the ready, and zipped away.

Draco looked over to see that his mother still had a hand on his girlfriend’s arm.  Once certain that they weren’t going to immediately run off she released Hermione and stepped back, unbuckling her shield.

“Here, take this.  I tried to offer it to you long ago, and I’m sure we’re both glad by now that you did not take it at that time.  Now I feel that you must take it.”

Hermione stared at the shield, shock engraved on her features.  “But-”

_ Just take it. _

_ But- _

_ My mother is stubborn.  We’ve got to go.  Look.  The ghosts aren’t able to attack anymore.  Something must have happened to Luna. _

Emotions flitted across her face, before quickly being shoved back.  “Point.  Fine, I’ll take it.  But this is just borrowing!”  She took the shield and quickly fitted it to her left arm.  “No more time to waste.  Let’s go!”

Draco nodded at his mother and then took off after Hermione.  None of them noticing his mother frown a bit and bend over to pick up a small, shiny black stone.

XXX

The sound of scales moving across stone had them all standing there motionless.  Pansy clinging as tightly to her wand as she clung to Neville’s hand.  She didn’t know what they could do if a basilisk came in here, but she knew she wasn’t going to just submit to being dead.  Not when she had someone to live for.

The sound of scales passed, and Madam Pomfrey reached to open the door, but something made Pansy reach out and stop the older woman.

Her fears, fears she hadn’t even truly understood, were confirmed a moment later.  Quiet footsteps came up the corridor.  They then disappeared and Pansy relaxed.  Madam Pomfrey waited a moment, then pulled open the door slowly.  She checked the hall and then gestured for Neville and Pansy to follow her out.  All three of them stood there, wands drawn, looking around and listening.  When nothing could be heard they quickly moved, heading down to where Harry had said Ginny was.

They were almost to the stairs when the sound of scales against stone once again filled the corridor.

A snake, not nearly as large as a basilisk, was moving up the stairwell, it raised itself up, hissing as it saw them.  

It was worse than any of Pansy’s nightmares.  She’d learned the hard way that a bad thing was always followed by a worse thing.  It was why she had stopped Madam Pomfrey from opening the door.

But this wasn’t worse, this was just bad.  Very bad.

The snake lunged forward, jaw open wide, fangs glinting in the light of torches.  Pansy screamed silently and threw herself out of the way, taking the older witch with her.  A hand pushed on her shoulder, giving her a shove and she turned as she fell, seeing Neville easily sidestep the snake and then proceed to draw his dagger.

What happened next happened in a single instant.  

Neville dropped his wand, grabbing the snake instead and yanking it backwards toward him.  His other hand moved at the same time, using his little gardening knife like a dueling dagger.  It plunged down into the snake, at the base of the head, severing the spinal cord.  He yanked it out, eliciting a spurt of blood as he dropped the snake, letting it twist and writhe in it’s own death throes.  

Pansy threw herself into his arms, holding him tight.  He patted her back and buried his face in her hair.  “It’s alright.  I’ve got you.  And now the last horcrux is gone.  We’ve given Harry a fighting chance.”

She couldn’t respond, her throat was too swollen from the tears that wanted to flow out.  She’d never been as afraid as she’d been, seeing that snake lunging at him.

“Well, Mr. Longbottom, that was well done.  But how did you do that so easily?”  Madam Pomfrey asked, pulling herself up and recovering her wand.

He snorted and pulled his face out of Pansy’s hair.  “I’m a gardener.  You think snakes don’t try and infest my greenhouses?  Mum taught me how to deal with them safely.  And thank Merlin for that.  Or we’d be in a world of hurt right now.”

“You’re right.  Now, let’s hurry down to Miss Weasley.”  Madam Pomfrey spun on her heels, shouldering her bags and keeping her wand at the ready.

“You’re alright?” Neville asked Pansy, looking her over.

“Yes.  Are you?”

He nodded.

She smiled and stood on her tiptoes, giving his cheek a light kiss before turning and heading down the stairs, Neville following right behind her.

XXX

Blaise could hardly process the words that Theo had just said.

Tracey was dead.

Dead.

Their best friend was dead.

And Theo’s bastard of a father had done it.  

“You killed him, right?”

Theo nodded, looking down at his silver hand and flexing the fingers.  Blaise knew him too well.  He didn’t even have to think on why his boyfriend was doing that.

“You didn’t use magic.”

Theo nodded again, his face an expressionless mask when he looked up at Blaise.  His eyes looked as hollow as Blaise felt.  “He had my wand.  It was the only way. I-” he stopped, gulping and looking away, “I understand.  If you want nothing to do with a murderer.”

Those words broke Blaise’s heart and spurred him to move, filling him up with emotions.  He stood up from the chair he’d been seated on and crossed the small classroom, taking Theo by the arms and pulling him up.  Hugging him as tightly as he could.

“I’d never want nothing to do with you.  I’d do anything for you.   _ Anything _ !” He pulled back, piercing Theo with his gaze.  “Do you understand?  I love you.  And I’m not going to stop.  Especially not because you gave justice to our friend’s murderer.  Understand?”

Emotions flitted across Theo’s face.  

Guilt.  Pain.  Anger.  Sadness.  Despair.

Blaise saw them all, feeling them as if they were his own.

Finally, Theo whispered, “But, it was my father who-”

Blaise gave him a little shake, “No!  It was NOT your father.  Understand?  You renounced him.  Didn’t you?  You didn’t choose him.  You didn’t choose his path.  What was that you said to me once?  That expression you gave Draco?  About apples?  You were on a hill.  You rolled away.  Chose your own place to put down roots.”

Theo shook his head, “I’m still rolling.  The tree fell down and rolled right after me.  Unwilling to let me escape.”

Blaise gave him another shake.  “Then where is the tree now?  Hm?  It killed itself chasing after you.  It may have caused damage as it rolled, may have rolled right over a beautiful flower, but it did not poison the ground where you rolled to stop.  We  _ won’t let it  _ poison the ground.  Understand?”

Theo said nothing, emotions once more flitting across his features.

Sadness.  Guilt.  Worry.  Acceptance.  Hope. 

Theo pulled back, putting his silver hand up to stop Blaise from stepping forward once more.  He appeared deep in thought.  His eyes closed.  Blaise knew better than to interrupt.

After what felt like an eternity Theo opened his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You’re right.  I know you’re right.  You know you’re right.  Hell! You’re always right.”

Blaise forced a smile, “Of course I’m always right.  Except when I’m wrong.”

Theo snickered, but his heart wasn’t in it.  He strode over to the table, looking down at the Marauder's Map.  

Blaise joined him and they studied the castle.  What Blaise saw made his heart stop for a moment.  Potter was running down a corridor on the fifth floor and Tom Riddle was following him.  Blaise didn’t know much about the Dark Lord, but Theo had told him his real name.  AS they watched Harry dipped into a stairwell and raced upwards. 

“We need to go,” Theo said, grabbing up the map.  “Harry will likely run up to the sixth floor and then-”

“Then we need to rush down to the fifth.  We can’t end up trapped up here,” Blaise finished.

Theo nodded, grabbing up the map and folding it so that he could watch Potter’s movement.  “Let’s go.”

Theo headed for the door and Blaise quickly followed him.  This time keeping half his attention on the corridor behind him.

He refused to let anyone take him by surprise again.

XXX

Ginny’s grip on the wand tightened and she raised it up, a silent disarming spell hovering on the edge of her mind, just waiting to be released.  

No one was going to injure her best friend.  Nor would she allow them to desecrate her brother’s body.

Two people came out of the stairwell and her wand began its descent, her spell raced through the air, hitting its target and sending a wand flying.  She grabbed it out of the air as she spun to one side; casting a silent stunning spell only to have it crash against a shield as someone shouted, “Dammit, Weasley!  Look before you cast!”

She blinked, crouched low, and stared at the two figures.  It took a moment for her brain to process their identities.

Theo and Zabini.

Oh.

Oops.

But-

“How do I know you’re who you appear to be?” she asked suspiciously.

Zabini frowned, and opened his mind to speak, but Theo held a hand up and stopped him.  He then proceeded to yank off his black glove and show the silver hand.  “Wait, Blaise.  We did the same thing earlier.  I am Apple, of the New Marauders, and you are Ginger.  Behind you lie Moon and King.  Or so the Map tells me.  Back at Christmas we discovered a prophecy, about Harry.  After we broke into the Ministry of Magic.  I did not participate due to this very new arm.”

She relaxed and tossed Theo back his wand, “So, you’re really Theo.  What does the Map show?  Where is Harry?  Lord Voldemort? The teachers?”

He caught it quite handily and hurried over to her, opening the Map so she could see.  

“Harry’s now on the Fifth floor.  He was up on the Seventh not too long ago.  See?  The Dark Lord is still following him.  Though he’s created quite a gap between them.”

She snatched the Map out of his hands, eyes scanning it, “Nimue’s tits!  It doesn’t show the basilisk?”

Theo and Zabini gaped at her.  “Basilisk?” 

“Slytherin’s monster.  Chamber of Secrets.  It doesn’t show up.  It must be in all that space between Harry and Voldemort.  Now, where are the teachers?”  She scanned the map, but the only teacher she saw was Hagrid up on the second floor, near a girl’s bathroom.

Her frown deepened, something tickling the back of her brain.  Telling her something was wrong.

“Zabini, Theo, watch Luna.  I’ll be right back.”  She raced off, ignoring their shouts, her eyes glued to the Map.  She took the steps two at a time.

It only took her a minute to round the corner and find the spot of corridor that showed Hagrid on the Map.

But the Map was wrong.  Hagrid wasn’t the only one in the corridor.

Numbly she counted three dead Death Eaters.  All of them dead from spell damage.

The teachers were another matter.  A few had been attacked with fangs, but most were just dead.  From basilisk sight or killing curse she couldn’t tell.

Except Hagrid.

He took up almost half the corridor and was as stiff as-

She gasped.

Ron!

She yanked the Map open, finding her brother, his name almost on top of Luna’s.  Then she looked back up at all the dead before her.

Ron wasn’t dead!

The Map didn’t show dead bodies!

She turned and ran back downstairs.  

XXX

Harry ran down the stairs, lifting his blindfold just enough to ensure that he didn’t fall flat on his face.  

Going down stairs blind was a lot harder than going up.

He could still hear the basilisk behind him, but it was further behind than it had been.  

He had to be on the second floor now., if he’d really, as he thought, made it up to the seventh floor before heading back down.

Hopefully Ginny had gotten Luna and Ron to safety.  If they were still alive, that is.  But he didn’t want to think about that.  He couldn’t think about that.  People were counting on him to keep his head.  And he may know that the prophecy only held as much power as he gave it, but Voldemort didn’t.

And he was determined to kill Harry.

He stumbled, his foot hitting something and he fell, landing against something covered in cloth that was as hard as stone.  The snake was far behind him so he pulled back, lifting up his blindfold to see a massacre lying before him.

He could see Mcgonagall, her face pure pain as she clutched at a neat round hole in her thigh.  There was Flitwick, his face twisted in horror and not a mark on him.  Sinistra, her eyes wide in shock.  Hagrid, stiff as a board and lying right in front of him.  

It had been Hagrid he’d run into.

The only professors not lying before him were Mrs. Longbottom and Snape.

They had to have been with the Order.

He’d seen enough.

Plus the snake had grown louder, decreasing the distance between them.

He kept the blindfold up, hurrying through the carnage and around the corner, rushing down the stairs and then coming to a sudden halt, gasping for breath.

Madam Pomfrey was disappearing down the main stairs, levitating a stiff Ron with Luna clutched in his arms.  Following right behind her was Neville, Pansy, Ginny, Theo, and Zabini.  Four of them were looking all around with their wands out, but Ginny was staring down a dirty piece of parchment in her hand.

Her head whipped up, her brown eyes meeting his green ones and then she shot away from their friends.  Throwing her arms around him and giving him a quick, tight squeeze.  He only realized what was in her hand when it thumped against his back.

“Here, take this,” she shoved the Map into his hands before he could ask just what she planned to do with that silver sword.

He looked down at the Map and saw that Voldemort had paused near where all the bodies were.  

But the sound of scales against stone was getting stronger.  Coming from the stairwell he’d just exited.

His eyes widened in panic.

“Ginny!  Let’s go!”  He grabbed her free hand and tugged her towards the main staircase.  

She let him tug her along as they followed their friends down.  They disappeared into the Great Hall, but came back out a moment later, looking at Harry and Ginny expectantly.  As if asking for the plan.  At the base of the stairs she pulled her hand out of his.  She then reached into her bag and yanked out her broomstick.

“Go stand in the middle of the room!!!”

“What-?”

But he had no chance to finish.  She shoved off from the ground, sailing up to the top of the Entrance Hall.  A flicker of movement caught his eyes from the top of the staircase he instantly jerked the blindfold back down.  He spun and pointed his wand at where he thought the door to the Great Hall was.  “ _ Obscuro! _ ”

Hopefully if he missed they’d take the hint and blindfold themselves.

“HARRY!” 

Neville’s shout echoed around the large stone room, bouncing around and making the basilisk hiss out in annoyance.

He shoved the map into his pocket and raised his wand, listening intently.  He didn’t know what he was doing.  He didn’t know if this was the best idea, but he trusted Ginny.  And he was all out of ideas.

The sound of scales on stone grew closer.

XXX

Ginny carefully hid in the upper corner of the room, keeping her eyes squeezed tight she listened to the snake move.  She tried to picture where it was, what it was doing.

She was taking a gamble here.

She knew her magic was stronger when those she loved were in danger.  But what about her physical abilities?

Slowly she turned the broom, keeping her eyes closed and listening as hard as she could.

A spear of fear tore through her.

Harry!

She raised the sword before her and plummeted towards the ground, towards the sound of hissing and the scrabble of Harry racing across stone.

Another loud hiss.

So that was where it’s mouth was.

Controlling the broom with her knees she pulled out of the dive and raced forwards.  

She didn’t open her eyes, not until she felt her momentum come to an abrupt halt as the sword slammed into something.  She released the sword with one hand, using all her physical skills to stay seated on the broom as the snake’s head whipped around, trying to throw her off.  

She lunged forward, running her free hand over the side of the snake’s skull.

She wanted to shout with joy.

Keeping a hold on her broom she moved over the twisting snake’s head and felt the other side, wincing as she nicked herself on the sword.  

She’d gotten the other eye as well.

Ginning she opened her eyes and swung the broom into reverse, yanking the sword out.

The snake tried to snap at her, but she dodged those gleaming fangs, swooping through the air as she shouted.  “HARRY!  It’s blind!”

She glanced down, seeing him yank up the blindfold.  She grinned and tilted her broom, preparing to move upwards.

The next thing she knew was that her lungs had forgotten how to breathe.  The sword fell from her hand as the broom was yanked out from between her legs.  She screamed soundlessly as the basilisk’s tail drove her, face first, into a stone wall.

XXX

Pansy had hesitated at first to raise her blindfold, even after Ginny declared it clear.  It was Neville that gave her no choice.

“Pansy!  Guard my back!”

She shoved up her blindfold, watching as Neville raced forwards, his gardening knife in one hand and his wand in the other.  

Theo and Blaise weren’t quite behind him, but they were moving forward, helping Harry try and get the snake.

Something sparkled in her vision and she looked up to see a silver sword falling from the sky directly towards Neville’s head.

Part of her began to scream, but she shoved it down, raising her wand, “ _ Wingardium Leviosa _ !”

The sword stopped in mid-air and then began to vibrate, fighting her spell.

Fuck.  Of course it was a goblin made, spell resistant sword.

Quickly she flung it across the room, embedding it in a small wooden door on the other side of the Entrance Hall. 

Something moved in her vision and she spun, gasping at a figure lying crumpled against the wall.

Ginny.

A quick levicorpus spell later and she was rushing the younger Gryffindor girl into the Great Hall and towards Madam Pomfrey.

XXX

The shield weighed heavy on Hermione’s arm as she reached up, shoving the doors to the Entrance Hall open.

The sight before her made her pause in shock.  

_ What the- _

Draco’s words echoed through her head, springing her into motion.  She tossed her wand into the hand now covered by the shield and quickly drew her drawstring bag.  Her hand plunged in and she yanked out a rooster.  

It was dead.

MERLIN’S BALLS!

She threw the rooster to the side, reaching for another one, but was stopped by the sound that emerged from Draco’s hand beside her.

“ _ COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOOO! _ ”

The basilisk dropped like a rock, Harry barely leaping out of the way in time.

“How DARE you!”

The loud hiss drew all of their eyes upwards.

And Hermione had once thought Bellatrix terrifying.

She was nothing compared to the monster standing at the top of the main staircase.  His eyes burned red as he tore down the stairs, wand raised and pointed directly at Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Ron is alive. He's just petrified. I know I purposefully ignored anyone asking if Ron was really dead. The stiffness was a clue. How Ginny was unable to get Luna out of his grasp. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	71. Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle wraps itself up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my betas. As always, ya'll have done an amazing job. :)

Fred’s feet touched the ground and he was immediately grabbed by Padfoot and swung around, the older man’s eyes boring into Fred’s with a wild intensity.  His mouth opened, but then it snapped shut as he let out a small whimper.  His eyes growing wide and unfocused.

Fred shivered and felt the urge to do the same.  The deaths he had just witnessed suddenly pressing down on him, becoming almost too much on top of his constant grief over George

A distant part of his brain shouted that this wasn’t natural and he pulled himself out of the older man’s grasp.  Stumbling back, tripping over his fallen broomstick he landed hard on the ground.  He shivered once more and looked up, raising his wand.

Padfoot stood as still as a statue, grief twisting his soot covered features, tears leaving narrow little tracks of pale skin.  Behind him, approaching from a small pile of limp figures, were a good dozen dementors.  They glided forwards, eagerly searching out the pain-filled souls lying before them.

Fred scrambled to his feet.  His hand was shaking as he raised his wand, but the little beetle moving under his collar and the grief-stricken man before him gave him the strength he needed.  Calling forth a memory of George he cast.

“ _ Expecto Patronum _ !”

George’s raven swooped out of his wand, letting out a loud, territorial caw as it soared into the sky before diving straight back down at the dementors.

The dementors did an abrupt about-face and Fred scowled.  He could see figures dueling about a hundred feet away, directly in the dementors new path.  

Skeeter moved again under his collar and Fred got an idea as he watched the raven run the dementors off.  

Tentatively, fearing what he would, or rather, would not find.  He moved down the mentally magical path that had always led to George.  It still felt as empty as it had since the graveyard, but he wondered…

At the end he found no George, no second half, no equal.  But he did find something else.

He and George had once considered becoming animagi after learning about the first Marauders, but they had never gone farther than searching out their animals.  They just hadn’t had the time to devote to it if they wanted to make their joke shop an immediate success.  Though their animagi forms had affected their patroni.  Fred’s original patronus - a crow - had been George’s animagi form.  The opposite had been true for George’s patronus.

He dived off the end of the mental path, trusting Skeeter to watch his body until Padfoot regained his mental facilities.

Instantly he was swooping through the air, silvery wings spread outwards as he turned, cutting off the dementors’ new path and forcing them to turn once more.  He kept on top of them, herding them away from the battle and back towards the forest.

When he was almost there he realized that the forest was not empty.  

Centaurs stood there in the shadows of the trees.  They were watching the battle, and, as one, they raised their arrows, aiming directly at the twelve oncoming dementors.  

Fred shot into the air, flying over the released arrows and the golden strings of sunlight that trailed behind them.  He swung around to look, seeing them pierce the dementors.  One of his silvery wing tips brushed one of the golden strings.

Instantly his heart was filled with the most glorious of emotions even as his mind became clearer than it had been since George died.  

“Be careful, young wizard.  Mars is bright tonight.  Darkness may feed off of hate, but it takes more than love to end the pain that darkness brings,” one of the centaurs said, addressing Fred as he flew by.

“Quiet, Bane.  This is not our fight,” another said.

“True, but you know the stars as well as I.  Sol has lent us her power so that we may shine light upon even the darkest of beings.  This may not be our fight, but we are far from neutral.” Bane said to the other centaur before turning his attention to Fred once more.  “Go, young wizard.  Use your changed family magic to drive the worst of the dark creatures towards us.  We shall bring balance once more to the rotation of our universe.

And that’s what Fred did.  Sweeping through the dying battle he herded dementors toward the forest.  Protecting the living from the same fate that had struck his twin.

XXX

After five minutes of watching Sirius Black become consumed by grief Rita Skeeter had had enough.  She didn’t know why Fred was standing as still as a statue, but she guessed it had something to do with his patroni herding dementors all over the battlefield.

This was boring and there was no story here.

Still, she couldn’t go off and leave Black or Fred alone and defenseless.  If Miss Black lived through this battle - and Rita thought she would - then she would kill Rita slowly and painfully if those she cared about died due to Rita’s negligence.

Not that Rita wanted to leave Black or Fred.  Something deep inside, in a place she had never before consciously accessed, tugged at her to protect those that were important to Miss Black.

She scurried up on top of Fred’s head, looking around.  

The battle had obviously swung heavily away from Voldemort’s forces.  There were very few masked Death Eaters left.  And even they were falling quickly as Order members joined the students in repelling invaders.  There were a few giants and half-transformed werewolves, but mostly it was dementors roaming the battlefield.  Patroni were visible all over the place, but most were just holding dementors at bay or sending them in different directions.  

Only Fred seemed to be herding them towards the forest for the moment.

She mentally smiled.  That kid was pretty darn smart.  She’d made the right choice, saving him and giving up her position.  Besides, it’s not like she would’ve been a double-agent for much longer as the war seemed to be on its final battle.

A flicker of odd movement had Skeeter looking up at the castle steps.  

Narcissa stood there, looking down at a black stone.  Studying it with her wand.  

Abruptly her entire posture changed and she gave a terrifying smile.  She raised the stone high up in the air, clenching it tightly.  The stone began to shine with an unworldly light.

“Well!  Finally!”

The words made Skeeter turn.  She watched in shock as Nearly Headless Nick drew his sword and charged right at the back of a Death Eater dueling a couple students not too far away.  Spearing the wizard through and making him scream in agony.

Now this was a story.

She watched avidly as the ghosts she’d barely noticed before joined the fray.  With less opponents the students and Order members began organizing, having their patroni work together and helping Fred herd the dementors towards the forest, where streaks of golden sunlight eliminated the dementors’ cold, clammy darkness.

A chill ran through Rita’s antennae and she scurried through Fred’s hair until she could see a single dementor  approaching the poor man.

She didn’t think about it, she flew off of Fred’s head and transformed, her feet landing solidly on the trampled grass.  Her faithful little seagull flew from her wand, sending the dementor back to its fellows.  

“Rita!  What are you doing here?  I distinctly remember Sirius telling you to stay at the Burrow!”

The sharp words made her spin around.  Narcissa was running up, the small black stone in one hand, her wand in the other.

A shiver of fear ran through Rita at the look in the other woman’s eyes.  Even on a battlefield, covered in soot and with torn robes, the old Queen of Slytherin was terrifying.

“An arrangement with Fred Weasley.  I was to stay hidden, but…” she trailed off and gestured towards the fleeing dementor.

Narcissa’s gaze flickered over the scene, her eyes calculating.  Then her lips twisted in a small smile.  “So, Hermione got to you too, did she?”

Rita frowned, “What do you mean?”

The woman laughed, “Oh, little Rita.  Did you really think I lied about the animagi wards at Malfoy Manor?”

“The wards?  What-?”

Narcissa laughed again.  “There really are wards attuned to Malfoys only.  I figured you would just snoop in human form.  Then when I saw you as a beetle...well, it was easy to figure out.”

Rita’s mind raced, trying to make sense of her old housemate’s words.  “But-but-I’m the daughter of two muggleborns!  I can’t be a Malfoy!”

“Yes, you can be.  My son’s great-great-great-uncle fell in love with and married a muggle.  He wasn’t disowned as he wasn’t the heir, but it was frowned upon heavily.  He had two children.  A half-blood girl, who married into the Fudge wizarding family, and a muggle girl who married into a well-to-do muggle family.  You must be descended from the muggle girl.  As this was only a few generations ago a part of your family magic is similar to Malfoy Magic.  Especially true as you’ve always craved power and fame, like most Malfoys.”

The small part of Rita that had always disliked those old, pureblood families twinged in shame, knowing she was descended from one.  It felt a bit like she was betraying her grandparents.

Narcissa moved forwards and laid a hand on Rita’s arm, her smile softening some.  “You’ve come to admire Hermione, haven’t you?  Because of her skill at writing articles?  And what she’s accomplished with those articles?”

Rita felt herself nod.  She did admire Miss Black.  She had since she’d read that first article right after getting out of Azkaban.

“You’ve likely formed some kind of bond with Hermione.  It’s part of the Malfoy magic, though I doubt yours is as strong or as solid as Draco’s.  Just enough to make you hesitate and think before going off and leaving those she cares about to die.  Enough to gain the trust easily of those she welcomes into her inner circle.”

Rita nodded again, things shifting in her mind and beginning to make sense. 

“Right.  Now why don’t you go watch what’s going on in the Entrance Hall?”  She gestured at Mr. Black.  “I’ll help Sirius and also keep an eye on Fred Weasley’s body, as he seems rather busy.”

She took the camera carefully and gripped her wand tightly.  “Thank you, Narcissa.  May we speak afterwards?”

“Yes, we’ll have a long talk.  Now, go.”

Rita hurried up the steps, just reaching the top in time to hear a rooster crowing from Mr. Malfoy’s upraised arm.

XXX

Colin snapped a picture as Cormac trussed up the last Death Eater near them, securing the area.

“All good, Colin?” The older boy asked, scanning the battlefield.

“Yes.  I think the battle is almost over.”

“I think you’re right. Let’s go back to the entrance of the castle.  I think I see Auror Black.  He’s likely in charge since Miss Black has disappeared.”

Colin looked over to the front, seeing three figures at the base of the steps.  The blonde one had her wand out and was sending her patronus at a dementor.  He raised his camera, zooming it in as far as he could and snapped a shot.  “Okay.”

The two teens hurried through the battlefield.  Carefully stepping over bodies and using Cormac’s patronus to keep the dementors away.  Colin got a few good shots of a crow patronus herding the dementors away from the castle and towards the forest.

They reached the base of the stairs just as the blonde figure raced up the steps.  Another person had taken her place.  Colin instantly recognized Mrs. Malfoy from the wizarding culture seminars he’d attended during his fourth year.  He’d gone to a few this year, but they had stopped after the breakout from Azkaban.

“Mrs. Malfoy!” Colin called out.

The woman whirled, her wand coming up, and he captured a glorious picture of her.  

“Auror Black!” Cormac said along with the flash of the camera.

The older man, who had been standing still as a statue, turned and stared at Cormac.  His face was full of such grief that Colin stopped his finger from automatically snapping another picture.  

Some things were just too personal to capture forever.

“Who are you?  And Sirius isn’t an Auror anymore!” Mrs. Malfoy snapped, not lowering her wand and stepping directly in front of an unmoving Weasley.  Colin couldn’t make out enough features under the soot and ash to decipher which one, though the red hair was unmistakable.

“Cormac Mclaggen,” Auror Black said hollowly, his voice rough and gravely, “A-Alice and I helped him.  After the Forbidden Fruit incident.”

“Oh.  Him,” Mrs. Malfoy said coldly.

A rooster choose that moment to crow, drawing all of their eyes towards the sound.  Colin’s feet moved with his eyes.  He was halfway up the stairs before he even realized he had moved.  His camera moved up to cover his eyes.

What he saw through the viewfinder did nothing to stop his forward movement.  Nor did it stop his finger from closing the shutter, capturing so many pictures he could have put them together and made a movie.

His finger clicked, capturing Lord Voldemort’s wand in motion, a burst of green light flying out of it and directly at a panting Harry Potter lying sprawled on the floor beside a giant dead snake.

Another click captured Hermione Black yanking her hand out of Draco Malfoy’s, raising a silver shield and racing across the short distance separating her from her brother.  

The third click showed that deadly green light bouncing harmlessly off the shield and shattering on the body of the dead snake.

Lord Voldemort hissed in frustration.  “You dare stand in my way, little girl?  Potter will die and then I shall deal with you and blood traitor who gave you that artifact.”

A click showed Hermione Black rising tall over Harry Potter, her gaze focused intently on the Dark Lord even as Draco Malfoy came over, offering a hand to Harry Potter.

“You still think you can still win?  The battle is lost.  Your forces outside are decimated.  Your pet snakes are dead.  All of your horcruxes are destroyed.  You won’t make it out of this castle alive.”  Hermione Black said coldly.  

“Oh, really?  We’ll see about that!”

It took three clicks to capture what happened next.  Lord Voldemort’s wand swept through the air, pulling stones out of the castle floor and walls, crumbling them and coating the dead snake in them.  Within a minute a forty foot stone snake raised itself up off the ground and let out a harsh, guttural hiss.  It immediately snapped forwards gleaming white, poison soaked fangs aiming right for Malfoy, Black, and Potter.

Colin considered dropping his camera and rushing in to help, but the way Potter and his friends moved didn’t invite any interference.  He hadn’t even passed his OWLs yet.  

Better to take pictures and let Black use them in her articles about this night.

Colin snapped another picture as he stepped back.  Showing Potter leaping to one side, while Malfoy and Black lept the other way.  

He was unable to follow much of the action after that as the three, quickly joined by Longbottom, Zabini, and Nott, dodged the giant snake.  Trying to defeat it and give Potter a clear shot at Voldemort.

One of his pictures captured Black throwing her shield through the air like a frisbee, where Zabini caught it expertly just in time to break one of the stone snake’s massive fangs on it.  He was about to toss it back to Black when the snake turned with lightning speed and tried to sink it’s remaining fang into Longbottom.  Another expert throw and the shield lodged itself in the snake’s mouth, trapping it open.  The snake began to writhe in frustration, making everyone dodge out of the way.  

Colin turned his head, trying to find Potter and make sure their hero was safe.  His finger moved automatically now, snapping as many pictures as he could.  Grateful for the never-ending film roll Cormac had given him for his birthday.

The image he captured of Potter nearly made him drop his camera.  

Potter flew through the air, having been hit by the stone tail.  He slammed into the wall and slid to the ground, a trickle of blood running from a dent on his skull.  Lord Voldemort grinned in exultation, raising his wand and shooting a jet of green light.

“NOOO!!!”

The scream rent through the air and Colin dropped his camera.  Unable to do nothing but watch in horror.

XXX

Hermione barely heard herself scream.  She raised her wand, but found herself body slammed by the stone snake.  She slammed into the ground, her arm going numb from the impact.  As if from a great distance she heard her wand clatter on the ground.  

She rolled out of the way of the writhing stone snake, hearing her wand crunch under its enormous weight.

There was nothing else to do.  Draco may be her anchor, but Harry was her brother.  She couldn’t lose him.  She couldn’t lose any more of her family. 

Even if it meant losing herself.

_ I’m sorry. _

_ NO! _

Draco’s mental scream echoed through her mind as she leaped in front of Harry’s unconscious body.  

She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting to feel the cold fingers of death.

But she felt nothing.

Loud gasps rang out through the room and she tentatively opened her eyes to see green light hovering in front of her face.

It stayed there for a single heartbeat, as if undecided.  And then, much to her surprise, it shot backwards, slamming into Voldemort and sending him falling limply to the ground.  His stone snake falling apart at the exact same moment.

His wand clattered to the ground, bouncing on one end and then tumbling down the stairs.  When it reached the bottom it rolled directly over to her.

She stared at the wand.

What had just happened?  Was it the blood wards?  Her bond with Harry?

She didn’t think so.  She hadn’t found anything to say that they acted like that.  Then what?

The wand caught her attention.  She knew that wand.  It had been Dumbledore’s.  That meant it was the Death Stick.  But the Death Stick should have no Master.  A snake had killed Dumbledore.

Hesitantly, barely breathing, she reached out and picked up the wand.  A wonderful rightness flooded through her.  Unlike anything she had felt since her first visit to Ollivanders.

Wait.

She was the Master of the Death Stick?

_ Hermione?  Are you alright? _

Draco’s words pierced her mind as he reached her, his hands shaking as he looked at her with worry.

_ I-I don’t know.  Somehow, I’m the Master of this wand. _

_ Doesn’t that explain what just happened?  A wand won’t hurt its Master. _

_ Well, yes.  But, I mean, really, HOW?!?!  How am I the Master?!?!?  Nagini killed Dumbledore!   _

He frowned at her and knelt down.

_ I don’t think you have to kill to gain the allegiance of a wand.  Just disarm them.  Didn’t we read that somewhere?  When you were researching brother wands? _

_ Well, yes, but- _

She stopped, pulling up memories of that horrible Battle of Malfoy Manor.  Trying to think even as she turned around and began checking over Harry with the wand in her hand.  She had levitated her brother and was walking him to Madam Pomfrey in the Great Hall when something clicked.

_ Draco.  _

_ Yes? _

_ I did disarm someone in the Battle of Malfoy Manor. _

_ Who? _

_ Lockhart. _

Draco scoffed beside her.

_ Are you saying Lockhart disarmed Dumbledore?  That man only had skills in two areas: semi-believable lies and obliviating. _

_ Well, yes, but remember?  Dumbledore got bitten, but didn’t die right away.  Could Lockhart have disarmed a weakened Dumbledore? _

_ Maybe.  And if he did, and then you disarmed him… _

_ Yes.  I think I remember a wand flying towards Lockhart, but there were a lot of things going on, so I’m not sure. _

_ Well, we can research it later.  I’m sure we can find a pensive and exam some memories. _

_ Alright. _

She gently lowered Harry down between Ron and Ginny.  Stepping back as Madam Pomfrey began fussing over him.  Immediately she felt herself drawn into Draco’s embrace.  

She began to shake, the adrenaline from the last few hours leaving her.  She knew she should go outside and help clean up, but she just couldn’t summon up the energy.  Hermione didn’t know how long she stood there, soaking up Draco’s warm strength, but it was Harry’s voice that finally drew her to pull back.

“What-what happened?  is it over?”  Harry asked, his head now bandaged and his eyes glazed over from a pain potion.

Hermione smiled sadly down at Harry, but was saved from answering by Draco.  He knelt down and laid a friendly hand on Harry’s shoulder.  

“Yes, it’s over.”  He gestured around the Great Hall, which, to Hermione’s surprise, was now filled with people.  “We’ve lost a lot of people, but-”

He stopped as a loud cry of grief rent the air.  Neville stood between Padfoot and Narcissa, his eyes filling with tears and Pansy wrapping her arms around him tightly.  Hermione’s heart lurched, knowing that that grief could only mean one thing.

Mrs. Longbottom had to be dead.

Who else was dead?

Tears stung her eyes and she began to breathe heavily.  So many lost, and she had lead them.  Called them to come help.

Air.

She needed air.

Familiar warm arms wrapped around her and she felt herself being led out of the Great Hall and up the stairs.

Eventually they came to the top of a tower and exited out into the cool night air.

She stood there, Draco’s warm presence at her side.  After a moment she turned to him and hugged him close.  He returned the gesture, rubbing his hands comfortingly over her back.

Suddenly it was too much.

Everything was too much.

She felt like she was ready to explode and she didn’t know how to get rid of all this energy.

She just wanted to feel alive again.  And she wanted to do it with someone she-

Her mind balked, but she pressed on, letting her more positive emotions run free for once.

Someone she loved.

Pulling back she looked up into Draco’s silver eyes.

“Did you mean it earlier?”

He looked confused, “Mean what?”

“That you love me.”

He smiled softly, “Yes.  I really do love you.”

She knew Padfoot, Draco and Harry were alive.  The three most important people in her life.  She didn’t know who else had lived, but she didn’t want to think about it either.  Not right now.  She knew that Bellatrix, her parents’ murderer was dead.  She knew that Draco loved her and that she loved him.  She knew he didn’t care about her scars, even if she still did.  

Now she just wanted to feel alive again.

Smiling back at him she said quietly, “I love you, too.”

His eyes grew wide, then his smile broadened and the next thing she knew her body was pressed up against his and their lips were meeting.

She kissed him for all she was worth, letting her emotions and hormones take over.  Her fingers curled in his soft hair, holding him in place.  One of his hands slipped into her own hair, gently returning the favor.  His other hand roamed her back before coming to rest against her bum, pressing her to him.

She moaned at the feel of him, deepening the kiss.

_ What do you want? _

_ Everything. _

He froze at her statement, pulling back and looking her in the eyes.

_ Everything?  But-but-we’re on top of the Astronomy Tower! _

Her lips twisted up even as her heart pounded in her chest.

_ Yes, but I want to do something good.  Something pleasurable.  Something that is the complete opposite of death and fighting. _

He stared at her for a moment.

_ Really?  No, wait, we shouldn’t.  We aren’t thinking clearly right now.  This is a huge step.  And so much has happened tonight. _

She laughed, rising up on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek.  “Draco, why do you think we never did everything before?  It wasn’t because I didn’t want to.”

He blinked down at her, “Then…”

She tried to lift a single eyebrow, almost scowling when both of them came along for the ride.  “I’ve wanted to do this for awhile.  It was just my own disgust at my scars, as well as my fears about your possible disgust.”

His eyes widened and a smile began to slip across his lips.  “But as I’m not disgusted…”

Her smile broadened, and she yanked him back down, plundering his mouth with her own.  After a moment of hesitation his tongue came out to duel with hers.  Their hands were a flurry of movement.  His robes were practically torn off, forming a bed for them on the tower floor.  When hers soon followed she didn’t even flinch as her scars became visible in the moonlight.

It was time to put her nightmares behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the battle over this story is truly almost done. Voldemort and Bellatrix are done, the battle is finished, all that's left is the healing and rebuilding. And that will be covered in just a chapter or two. Hope ya'll have enjoyed this journey with me. :)
> 
> And I've had that revelation planned about Skeeter for awhile, though I did finally sit down and do the math. Making me go back and change the mention of Draco's great-uncle to great-great-great-uncle.


	72. Dawn Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes help rebuild the British Magical World.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say thank you to not just my betas, but to all the amazing readers and reviewers that have stuck with me through this long WIP. If you want to join me for another WIP I have one started and plan to post it next week. It's another AU and the point of change is that Lucius failed to bribe and talk his way out of Azkaban. What can I say, I like writing AUs and changing one little thing, then letting it spiral out from there.
> 
> Enjoy! And remember, every end is a new beginning :)

Sunlight danced over Hermione’s skin, warming it in ways she had never truly experienced before last summer.  Smiling, she stretched, enjoying the feel of grass against her bare limbs.  

“You look relaxed.”

She turned her head, opening her eyes to see Draco walking up, his broom in his hand and his hair tousled by the wind.  He’d been over at the Burrow with Harry, playing with the other quidditch fanatics.

“I am relaxed.  I finally made up my mind what job to accept.”

He settled down next to her, stretching out on the crisp grass and taking one of her hands in his own.  She didn’t even flinch when his fingers ran over one of her scars.  She still wasn’t comfortable wearing anything that showed her scars in public, but at home or at one of her friends’ houses she felt perfectly comfortable.  They knew her.  They knew her scars.  And, like Draco, they didn’t care.

That helped her find the strength not to care as well.

“Oh?  Are you going to take Snape’s offer to teach Transfiguration for a year?  I know he’d be happy to replace Tonks.  She’s such a natural that she’s a terrible teacher in the subject.”

She wrinkled her nose.  “No.  Besides, Pansy has offered to take that job for a year.  She isn’t sure what she wants to do with her life.  And with Neville taking over Herbology from Diggory…”

“Ah, yes.  Diggory is taking up a position at the Ministry.  In Magical Games and Sports, right?”

“Yes.  That department was hit terribly by the graveyard and the battle.  I’m sure you and the other quidditch fanatics will be glad to have the British Isles Quidditch League running again this year.”

He snickered, “Quidditch fanatics?  You will remember that it was us quidditch fanatics and our skill with broomsticks that turned the tide of the Battle of Hogwarts?”

She turned her head and made a face at him, but he just took the opportunity to kiss her.  It was several minutes before they pulled apart.  He quirked an eyebrow at her, making her jealous.  She still hadn’t managed to raise just one eyebrow.

“Well?  Are you going to tell me what job you plan to take?”

“I’m going to take up your mother’s offer to work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.  She’s right, because of my articles during and after the war I’m well-respected all over the world.  And we need all the international support we can get.  We lost so much last year that we may never recover without assistance.  Even if that assistance only comes in the form of visa exchange agreements with foreign countries.  We need skilled people and we can’t wait for the current students to grow up.  Not to mention last year and this year were smaller classes after the battle…”

She grimaced as she remembered the hours after she and Draco had returned from the Astronomy Tower. 

They’d lined up the dead, from both sides, and it had been horrific.  She’d been wracked with guilt for weeks over the fact that she had led so many students to their death.  She’d eventually found comfort with Blaise of all people.  He’d understood in a way that none of their friends could, for it had been the two of them that led the students out of the safety of the common rooms.  

Draco drew her back out of her thoughts.  “You’re right.  We do need help rebuilding.  And filling teaching slots.”

She smiled sadly, “Yes.  Like Professor Roux.  He’s as good at teaching as his sister and husband were, though he certainly doesn’t have their flair.”

“I think it would be very hard for anyone to have the same flair as Alianore.  That woman was rather unforgettable.  Same with Tachiki.  I’m still surprised Zackarie Roux chose to come teach Charms where they had died.  If you had died,” his face grew very grim and he finished quietly, “I don’t think I could have ever returned to Hogwarts.  Or England.”

She rolled over, letting him slip an arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder.  “But you didn’t lose me.  And I didn’t lose you.  As for Professor Roux, well, we all respond to grief differently.  Just look at Padfoot.”

Draco nodded in agreement, likely thinking the same things Hermione was.  Padfoot had been lost to grief for several months after the battle last year.  Not even Harry or herself had been able to draw him out.  Nor had Narcissa or Aunt Andy.  Finally, at a loss, Mrs. Weasley had written to Alianore’s brother, hoping that the two men could share their grief.  

It had worked.

The blonde Frenchman had showed up and disappeared into Padfoot’s room.  They’d talked quietly for a long time before going on a long walk in the woods around Black Cottage.  When they had returned Padfoot was more energetic and Zackarie Roux was talking of staying on the British Isles for awhile.

Everyone had breathed a huge sigh of relief when, a week later, Padfoot had gone to the Ministry and demanded his auror job back from the recently appointed Minister of Magic: Narcissa Malfoy.  

It had only been a few days before he found himself in charge of the recently decimated department.  He’d spent the last year restructuring the department and tracking down the few Death Eaters that had escaped the battle.  Now, with the graduation of Hermione’s class at Hogwarts he was receiving a number of new recruits to help him, including Harry, Ron, and Mclaggen.  She didn’t know how those three could walk into such a dangerous profession after just barely surviving a war.  Theo made a lot more sense, he’d chosen to work with Moony, Dora, and Mrs. Weasley on rebuilding the Marauder's Academy of Dueling and Defense.

The Academy had been closed for a year.  Padfoot refused to step foot in the building and the other three surviving employees - Moony, Dora, and Mr. Weasley - had all gone to teach at Hogwarts for a year.  Mr. Weasley had decided to stay, he enjoyed Muggle Studies so much, but Mrs. Weasley had taken his place at the Academy.

She decided to change the subject.  She didn’t want to dwell on the last year and all the grief they’d had to overcome.  She wanted to look to the future.

“So, are you going to take Snape up on his offer?”

Draco’s fingers stroked over her bare arm as he answered, “Yes.  Blaise is taking it as well.  He’ll teach Potions and I’ll teach Defense.  Headmaster Snape can be very persuasive when he wants to be.”

She giggled at that.  The idea of Snape being persuasive was rather hard to believe, but she also knew that Draco had been initially against the position.  He’d claimed that former Slytherins taking up so many positions at Hogwarts was a bad idea.  Especially as the Headmaster was a former Slytherin.  He said it would stink too much of favoritism.

It had been Headmaster Snape that pointed out that Draco getting a job at the Ministry would be the same thing.  And if he stayed home and did nothing it would look bad as it was generally accepted that everybody had a duty to help rebuild their world.

He lifted his head up and scowled down at her.  “You’re much too happy about me taking this position.  You know this means that we won’t be able to see each other much?  We won’t be at Hogwarts and I won’t be at the Cottage.  You could at least be disappointed about-”

She rolled over on top of him and shut him up with a kiss.  When she drew back he continued to scowl up at her.  

“Don’t think you can-”

She cut him off again.  Grinning against his lips as she coaxed him to respond.  It took a bit of work, but eventually his hands were tangled in her short hair and he was pressing up hard against her.

That’s when she choose to pull back, meeting his silver gaze with her own amber one.

“You’re right.  I will miss you terribly.  But do you know what?”

His eyes narrowed at her as he grew suspicious.  “What?”

“It will only be for a year.”

He stopped scowling and blinked in surprise.  She found herself unable to look away from him even as one of her hands slipped down and into the little drawstring bag on her belt.

“Only for a year?  The curse is broken.  Do you really think I’ll be that bad of a teacher?”

She shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek to stop from grinning.  “No.  I think you’ll be teaching there for many years.”

“Then, what-”

He stopped speaking abruptly.  Cut off by the emergence of her hand from her bag and the small, beat up box resting in her palm.  He stared at the box and then back up at her and, for the first time, she allowed her brain to fully process what that box meant. 

She wanted to marry him.

Her vow twinged, coming perilously close to breaking, but not quite.  Not until she thought about-

No.  

Not yet.

She knew that he wanted to marry her.  He’d made that clear months before, but had never pressed as he had known from their old fealty vow that she didn’t.

Except he had been a bit wrong.

She had wanted to marry him.  She just hadn’t wanted to support his mother’s wish.  She loved and respected Narcissa, but not enough to do something so important just because she wanted it.  She’d kept that distinction in mind so as not to break the vow and give it away.

But now she could.

She pulled back, sitting on his lap and he raised himself up to join her, his eyes still wide in shock.

“Draco Malfoy, I love you dearly.  And, while, when I first heard of your mother’s betrothal plan five years ago I couldn’t stand it.  I grew sick at the thought of marrying you.  I could not fathom the idea of us wed.  But, now?  Now I can’t imagine a life where we don’t marry.  Even if it does mean supporting your mother’s wish.”

The vow broke like a rubber band, snapping between the two of them.  But that was alright, they had other things tying them together.

She opened the box, revealing her parents wedding rings and her mother’s betrothal ring.  They had been among the few items Padfoot had taken from her first home.  He’d only given them to her back at Christmas - after testing her for love potions.  He had been sure she wasn’t under any potions, but just wanted to be safe.  Plus, he’d told Narcissa that he would do that all those years ago.

“They were my parents’,” she said softly.

He reached out hesitantly, still not saying a word, and picked up the engagement ring.

_ Draco? _

_ Hush.  _

He took the box out of her hand and set the wedding rings aside.  Delicately, as if she was made of glass, he took her left hand in his own callused hands and, looking up at her, matching her gaze with his own, he slipped the ring on her finger.

It fit perfectly, as if had been made for her, not her mother.

She felt like crying.

_ I love you. _

Their mental words ran together, forming only one cohesive thought.  She gave him a wobbly smile even as tears began to pour out of her eyes.  

He returned the smile before falling back onto the grass, dragging her with him even as he captured her lips with his own.  

She didn’t think she’d ever been so happy in her life.

XXX

A sharp rap came from the door and Hermione looked up, frowning.  It was much too early for anyone to be bothering her.  She was fairly sure she was the only one in the office.  Silently she drew her wand from her sleeve and set it on the desk beside all of her paperwork even as she loosened the Death Stick from it’s harness up her other sleeve.

“Come in.”

The door swung open to reveal Headmaster Snape.  He looked as sullen as ever and, just behind him, she could see a box floating in the air.

“Good morning, Ms. Black.  I trust I am not interrupting you.”

She gave him a friendly smile and started to stand.  “Good morning, Headmaster Snape.”

“No need to stand.  I’m only here to drop off a few items.  Besides, I’m afraid you might burst at any moment and I’m a Potions Master and a teacher, not a healer.”

She chuckled and sat back down, resting her hand on her distended stomach.  “I certainly feel as if I’m about to burst.  Now, what are you dropping off?”

Snape took a seat on the other side of her desk and had the box settle on her desk.  Curious, she lifted off the lid and looked down.  Both of her eyebrows rose into her hairline and she glanced up at Snape.

“Why-?”

“Because, Ms. Black, you are one of the few people in Great Britain that could possibly repair those items.  Well, besides Miss Lovegood, but I have no desire to talk of wraksprats or-”

“Wrackspurts,” she corrected unthinkingly, reaching into the box and pulling out an ornate ring with a heavy black stone set into it.

Snape rolled his eyes and scowled, “Nevertheless, you are much easier to deal with than she is.  Albus left you these items in his will, not that it was ever read.”

She frowned and looked up from her study of the ring.  “Why would he leave them to me?  I suppose the cup is mine as Narcissa gave it to me years ago, but the other items should belong to Hogwarts.”

He stood up and shrugged, brushing off his robes.  “I know not, Ms. Black.  But feel free to donate them to Hogwarts after seeing them repaired.  We’ll put them in the display case with Gryffindor’s sword in the Entrance Hall.  Or keep them for your children.  It is all up to you.  Good day.”  He swirled around, his robes fluttering like a bat’s wings.

She stopped him before he could leave.

“A moment, Headmaster Snape.”

He turned, dark eyes piercing her with annoyance.  “What is it, Ms. Black?”

“You said he left these in his will.  He’s been gone for years.  Why now?”

“I could not, in good faith, give these items to a Hogwarts student.”

“I graduated several years ago.”

“Indeed, but you have been here, at the Ministry, and I do not much enjoy visiting this place.  Even if it does look much better after being rebuilt.”

“Alright.  Then why come now?”

His lips grew into a half smile, “Because, Ms. Black, I had to register an adoption.  After all, I won’t allow the Prince magic to die out and I have no intention of adding a biological child to the population.”

Curiosity bubbled up inside of Hermione.  Snape was adopting someone?  “Who?”

Snape’s smile grew, transforming his features.  “Who do you think, Ms. Black?”

She supposed she didn’t really have to think.  After the war Snape only associated with two people that were younger than him - Blaise and Theo.  And Blaise wouldn’t want to be adopted. He loved his rather idiotic mother quite a lot.

“Theo was able to be the giver and the adoptee since he’s of age?  Or did the ritual recognize that he was an orphan?  I’ve never actually looked up the ritual in Draco’s tome.”

“It was because he was of age.  Now, I really must go, Ms. Black.  I suppose I shall see you at Narcissa’s Christmas party next week?  I have been ordered to attend.”

She chuckled, “Of course you’ll see me.  I’ve also been ordered to attend.  Have a good day, Headmaster Snape.”

He nodded at her in farewell before sweeping out the door and closing it softly behind him.  She looked back down at the ring in her hand, studying it for a moment before dropping it back in the box.

She’d give the box to Luna to deal with, Hermione just didn’t have time anymore to manipulate magic.  She was too busy manipulating her country and making it into a place she’d be proud to leave to her children.

With that thought in mind she stuck the box on a bookshelf and turned once more to her work, one hand resting lightly on the new life growing inside of her.

XXX

“Mummy!”

The childish voice rang through the empty store, bouncing off the bottles of weak love potions and Skiving Snackboxes.  Fred stopped just inside the shop door.  Watching as Luna emerged from the back, her skin decorated with bits of colored powders and her hair held up with what Fred thought was Ron’s old auror tie.

Luna swept her young daughter into her arms, twirling her around and around as the girl giggled.  When she finally put Quilla down the poor girl was obviously dizzy.  Stumbling she bumped into a display full of Lightning Rods.  Giggling as they fell and clattered all over the floor.

Fred rolled his eyes and used his wand to put everything back.  “Ron says he’ll be home in a bit.  He’s helping Tonks design an obstacle course at the Academy.  The new auror trainees will be using it as part of their training this summer.”

Luna smiled at him, “Thank you, Fred, for picking her up from the Burrow.  I was right in the middle of brewing that new protean potion and it’s very tricky.  Wrackspurts are always trying to throw it off.  You know how they like chaos.”

Fred nodded knowingly, though he didn’t really think wrackspurts had anything to do with it.  Luna just had a bad habit of getting distracted in the middle of brewing.  Still, she was very good at coming up with new products.  And it wasn’t like Hermione had much time now to help him.  She was currently pregnant with her second child and working with Mrs. Malfoy to remodel the entire British Magical Government.  

And Merlin help anyone that stood in the way of those two.

“It was no problem, Luna.  Though I have to go now.  I’m meeting Rita for drinks before I escort her to that gala tonight.  If you could lock up before you go.”

Luna studied him, her dreamy eyes seeing more than anyone else.  “Just escorting?”

He winked at her.  “Just escorting.”

Her laughter followed him out the door and down the street to the apparition point.

XXX

Harry grinned up at the sky, watching as Ginny snagged the quaffle and spun her broom.  A second later the crowd cheered as she scored another goal for the Holyhead Harpies.  

“She really is quite spectacular, isn’t she?”

Harry looked over at Zackarie.  The French man wasn’t really a quidditch fan, but he came to every game that Padfoot did.

“Yes, she always was a marvel on a broom.  I taught her how to spin like that,” Padfoot said proudly, slinging an arm around Zackarie’s shoulder.

The blonde man’s cheeks grew pink and Harry couldn’t help but grin before looking back up at Ginny.  

It had been nearly ten years since the Battle of Hogwarts and past time for Padfoot to move on.  To even Harry it was obvious that Zackarie had a thing for his godfather.  And, from a slip of Moony’s tongue after the birth of his second child Harry knew that Padfoot didn’t much care about the gender of his partner.  He also knew that Padfoot cared quite a bit about his friend.  And in the same way he had once cared for Moony and Alianore.

Hermione was vowing to get involved if they didn’t move on.  The only thing that was delaying her at the moment was the fact that she had a new baby at home and had just taken up the position of Minister of Magic.  Not to mention all the time her husband and two older children took.

Harry often wondered if she ever found any time to relax.

“Wow!  Daddy!!! Look!!!”

Harry followed his oldest child’s finger and grinned as he watched Ginny do a loop around another chaser and intercept the quaffle.  A moment later and it flew through the air, just barely slipping past the opposite team’s keeper.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his daughter up as she clapped with her chubby little hands and cheered her mother on.

Padfoot and Zackarie also leapt to their feet and, almost absently, Harry knocked his godfather, sending the older man sprawling into the Frenchman's arms.

Hermione may be too busy to play matchmaker, but Harry wasn’t.

XXX

Draco smiled, wrapping an arm around Hermione as Creevy snapped their picture for the Daily Prophet.  

“Great!  I think that will do nicely!  Now, I need pictures of Ms. Black with all three of her children.  Then we’ll get one of all five of you.  Over here, please.”

Draco watched as Creevy positioned Hermione with their three children.  Not that he could really call them children anymore.  Adhara was almost twenty-one, owned her own clothing shop, and was currently engaged to Abner Longbottom.  Mrs. Parkinson was over the moon knowing that her grandson was engaged to a Malfoy-Black.  Rigel had just graduated from Hogwarts and had just gotten a potion apprenticeship with Severus, who had recently retired from being Headmaster.  Passing on that position to Pansy, who had decided that teaching was exactly what she wanted to do with her life.

Kale was their baby, but at sixteen he wasn’t really a child either.  Draco clearly remembered what he had done at sixteen.

No, not even Kale was still a child.

Though that boy really needed to figure out what he wanted to do with his life.  But then, he had time.  After all, Draco may not have been a child at sixteen, but he hadn’t really decided what he wanted to do until he was almost thirty.

He’d taught Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts until Rigel was born.  Then he’d stayed at home, teaching Adhara and the other children of the Marauders.  Just like Moony had once done.

When Kale was born he had had an epiphany.  

Why teach just their own children? 

After the war there just weren’t enough magical folk on the British Isles to go back to the old method of homeschool and tutors.  Adults were needed in the workforce.  It would be much more effective to create a school, like Hogwarts, but not based around magic.

So he’d gone through the paperwork and founded an official school.  Having Moony and Mr. Weasley help him plan an official curriculum.  

He’d then enlisted Blaise’s help, pulling him away from Hogwarts and almost earning Severus’ everlasting hatred - Severus hated hiring new teachers.  Not to mention that Blaise was Severus’ son-in-law and thus Severus thought he had a stronger claim on the man than Draco did.

By the time Kale turned five and started school they’d had trouble keeping up with the increasing number of students.

And now, over fifteen years later, it was very unusual for a child to enter Hogwarts that hadn’t been to Black Dragon’s School of Magical Readiness.  Even muggle-borns were going now, what with the changes to muggle-born policies that his mother and wife had pushed through the government.

Gone were the days that purebloods could easily drug and take advantage of muggle-borns.

“Hey!  Malfoy!  Come on over!”

Creevy’s words drew Draco back to the present and he looked up to see everyone watching him expectantly.  He hurried over, slipping an arm around his wife and giving her a small kiss.

She raised one elegant eyebrow.

_ Daydreaming? _

_ A bit, more I’m just feeling grateful. _

_ Oh? Why? _

He looked around at Adhara, Rigel and Kale before focusing back on her.

_ Do you even have to ask? _

She smiled and pressed a small kiss to his cheek before turning to face the camera.

_ No, I guess not.   _

He turned to face the camera, grinning from ear to ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. It's over. When I started posting BB I had eight chapters written and a rough outline. I figured it would be about 150-200k words. Then I realized that I'd need almost a full story to transform Draco and another one to tell the romance and get Hermione her revenge, as well as her mental healing. Hence why I turned it into two 'books'. Childhood covers chapters 1-33 and is focused on Draco becoming a better person. Someone that Hermione can actually care about. While Adulthood, chapters 34-72, showcases their romance and Hermione truly healing from what Bellatrix did to her. You might have noticed that in Adulthood the POV characters were only our New Marauders and Rita Skeeter. A bit different from Childhood, where Narcissa, as well as other adults, got lots of POV time. That was on purpose, and did give a few headaches at times, lol. 
> 
> Again, a huge thank you to all of the amazing readers, but especially those that reviewed. A lot has happened to me over the last year and a half and writing this story was one of the few constants in my life. So thank you. You've been amazing.


End file.
